Between The Lines
by Beasties-Boys
Summary: In a story that parallels the timing of Ajes Blue's "In This World of Strangers" and "Take the Chance"... RL/SB SLASH
1. Weary Paths

Between the Lines 01 

**Between the Lines (1/?)**

Author: Beasties-Boys  
Author email: Beasties-Boys@fictionalley.org  
Category: General, Drama, Angst, Romance  
House: Schnoogle  
Keywords: Sirius, Remus, letters, Year 5, slash  
Spoilers: All the books (so far)   
Rating: R  
Pairing: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin; Percy/Oliver implied; Harry/Ron implied.   
Summary: In a story that parallels the timing of "In this World of Strangers" and "Take the Chance," Remus accepts a one-year job in Canada while Sirius is left to play courier for Dumbledore. Will their separation after so little time together strengthen them or drive them further apart?   
  
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. While the authors firmly believe the pairing is plausible, desirable, and just right, we also acknowledge the unlikelihood of anything like it ever happening in the books. So enjoy it here, at any rate.  
  
Authors Notes: This is a collaboration between two fanfiction authors; Gwendolyn Grace and Ajes Blue. It began months ago when Gwen sent me a letter writtten in the voice of Remus, to his lover Sirius, with the warningss that she was in a strange mood and she said "Okay, I'm weird! Go with it." Buying into each other's madness is something we do on a regular basis, so I went with it, and my Sirius answered her letter, and before we knew it we had not only letters but scenes, plot, and a whole year to fill with the whys and wherefores of their lives. Something that began as a friday afternoon distraction quickly became a project that took over our writing lives. We sincerely hope you enjoy it. Many, *many* thanks to our wonderful betas, Cairnsy and phatgirlfics. 

**Chapter One: Weary Paths**

**Kathy's Song  
Paul Simon**

_ I hear the drizzle of the rain  
Like a memory it falls  
Soft and warm, continuing  
Tapping on my roof and walls.   
  
And from the shelter of my mind  
Through the window of my eye  
I gaze beyond the rain-drenched streets  
To England, where my heart lies.   
  
My mind's distracted and diffused,   
My thoughts are many miles away,   
They lie with you when you're asleep  
And kiss you when you start your day  
  
And the song that I was writing is left undone  
I don't know why I spend my time  
Writing songs I can't believe  
With words that tear and strain to rhyme  
  
And so you see I have come to doubt  
All that I once held as true  
I stand alone without beliefs  
The only truth I know is you.   
  
And as I watch the drops of rain  
Weave their weary paths and die  
I know that I am like the rain:   
There but for the grace of you go I.   
_

* * *

"Professor Lupin?" A pleasant male voice called across the terminal. Remus Lupin looked around for the source and saw a stocky gentleman in a dark tan suit. He vaguely recognised him from fire calls: it was Tyfus Nordstrom, deputy headmaster of the Commonwealth Academy of Magic. 

"Professor Nordstrom," Remus nodded gratefully, passing the neat rows of seats bolted to the terminal floor. "It's good of you to come in person," he continued, shaking the man's hand. 

"Ty, please, and it's my pleasure. I don't have to tell you how grateful we are to Professor Dumbledore for recommending you." He scraped his gaze over Lupin's carefully casual Muggle clothing - not too worn in, but completely acceptable for the Winnipeg airport. "You've travelled among them quite a bit, I see," he observed cryptically. 

"Yes," Lupin acknowledged, needing no explanation. 

"Well, let's get your bags, and then we can settle you in at the school." He led Lupin away from the crowded concourse and charted them on a course for "Baggage Claim." 

They retrieved Lupin's battered, but still serviceable, trunk without incident, and walked out to the carpark. It was a fair day, but cold compared to Montreal, and before that, London, and before that, Somerset…Remus stifled a sigh. He had been travelling for almost 14 hours now, and it was only 4 hours later, local time, than when he started. 

"How far is the school?" He asked as they lifted his trunk into the car boot. 

Nordstrom grinned. "It's about 3 hours, with this car," he said, unlocking the cabin. "It's about 400 kilometres, as the owl flies. I won't be offended if you want to nap on the way," he offered amicably. 

"Thanks," Remus said with obvious relief. "I was all right on the train to London, but something about aeroplanes…." 

"I know what you mean. I prefer broom travel, myself." Nordstrom started the car and took them away from the transport complex. As they turned north out of Winnipeg, the car kicked into 6th gear and shot magically ahead of all the traffic. Within minutes, as they rose above Lake Winnipeg, Remus was fast asleep. 

"We're here," Nordstom said about three hours later. 

Remus woke effortlessly and saw the large campus ahead. To his right, he could see the low outline of a lake, and on his left, beyond Nordstrom's window, a rolling plain dominated the horizon. Ahead lay the Commonwealth Academy of Magic: his home for the next year. It was a collection of low buildings, none more than three stories high, made primarily of red brick. Along the edges were assorted out-buildings of log, clapboard, stone, and glass. A gold dome topped the spire of what looked like an old chapel. Maple trees dotted the open quads, their leaves half gone already. The few that remained were well into their fall colours. Some scraggly pines grew along the edges of the grounds as well. 

"The students arrive tomorrow," Nordstrom explained. "I'll take you to your housing first, let you start to feel at home. Edina's looking forward to meeting you. She and Professor Dumbledore are old friends, I hear. And he recommended you highly." 

Remus smiled timidly. "Professor Dumbledore is too kind," he murmured. "I'm looking forward to meeting the staff," he said a little more strongly. "Forgive me for being blunt, though, but I'd like to make absolutely certain: the staff all know?" 

Nordstrom understood. "Yes. And no, no one has any issue. Claire LeTrec, our Potions Mistress, said she'd be happy to make your potion for you. Views it as a challenge. You'll like Claire - we all do. And with the layout here, there's really no likelihood of you chancing upon a student, even if…" he trailed off, as if embarrassed for having said too much. 

"I understand," Lupin said tactfully. "I don't wish to endanger anyone accidentally, but it is easier when all the staff are co-operative." 

"Edina mentioned something about why you left Hogwarts," Nordstrom offered in commiseration. "You won't encounter that kind of prejudice here, I assure you. Still… we feel it's best not to alarm the students unnecessarily. You'll be attending conferences throughout the year. I hope that's all right?" He glanced over as he aimed the car toward a row of neat little houses, whose brick foundations extended half a level above the ground. 

"Yes," Lupin agreed readily. Nordstrom shut off the engine in front of a grey one at the end of the row. It had a small porch in front of the door, nothing really except a platform at the top of the stairs, covered by a peaked roof. One half of the house was shorter than the other, its slanted roof sloping dramatically to nestle against the straight wall of the second floor. Three windows faced the quad: one on either side of the door; the third upstairs. 

"Well, here you are," Nordstrom said, and hopped out to open the boot. "There are dorms for the students across the quad. Your office is in the main class building there," he pointed to a large brick edifice on the left, "and you can take meals in the dining hall if you like." This was a similar building on the right. "Many of our staff prefer to use their own kitchens, but some of us find it saves a lot of time not having to cook or clean. There's a floo network for the winter months or emergencies, and enclosed walkways for the students to use. And Marius will add your imprint to the mapping charms tomorrow." 

"Mapping charms?" Lupin's ears pricked up. 

"A convenience. All the teachers are imprinted and added to it. You have only to think of the location you want… and the school will guide you there. So there's no way you can lose your own classroom - I hear Hogwarts is a bit of a warren." 

Lupin smiled. "Oh, it's easy enough to learn one's way round," he shrugged. "Nevertheless… it sounds quite a nice piece of spellwork." 

"Oh, Marius will talk your ear off about it, if you let him," Nordstrom assured him. "He's our Charms teacher, and a bit of an oddball, but a better wizard you'll never meet." 

"A friend of yours, then?" Lupin surmised with a knowing smile. 

"Absolutely," Nordstom grinned. They wrestled Lupin's trunk up the short flight of stairs to the front door and Nordstrom keyed it open, then handed Lupin the key. 

"Here," he announced as they stepped inside the threshold. "Not much, but you can't beat the rent, or the commute." He conducted a knut tour - it didn't take long, as there were only six rooms altogether on the two floors - and then tactfully took his leave to let Remus rest. 

Remus woke late that afternoon. He flicked on a light in the large bedroom, stretched, and went to the bath to wash his face. It took a depressingly short time to unpack, less time to prowl through the whole house, top to bottom. Even the cellar held almost nothing interesting. The place was furnished comfortably, if a bit sparsely, and held none of the comforting antique feel of his little cottage back in Somerset country. Still, he needed work, and Dumbledore had graciously helped him get this job. It was difficult for Sirius to access his Gringotts' vault, and they couldn't really live off Remus's savings much longer. And much as he hated to admit it, Sirius was right. Canada would be much safer for him - either from ministry officials looking for the fugitive whom he harboured, or from Voldemort's crew looking for dark creatures to recruit or coerce to their side. Besides, Dumbledore clearly had reasons to send him here, though what those were, Remus could not begin to guess. 

Where was Padfoot now? He wondered. Was he home at Owl Nook, Remus's little cottage, taking a much-needed rest from the road and the exhausting work as courier for Dumbledore's expanding network? Was he somewhere on the road now, in his dog form, alone and asleep under the stars? Worst of all, when would they be together again? 

Swallowing to clear the tightness in his throat, he couldn't help but think about their leave-taking. Sirius was pretty safe in Muggle areas, since the search had long since lost the furor it had when he first escaped Azkaban. He offered to ride the train to London with Remus, to accompany him as far as the gate at Heathrow, but Remus refused. "You don't have to come, puppy," he had said with a determined smile. "I know you hate airports. Besides, it's still risky for you." They had wrangled a little bit, but in the end, Remus set the rules, and he had left Sirius early in the morning-yesterday morning, he thought glumly. He had packed the night before, and afterward, they had made love lingeringly, without the need to rush, just savouring their last hours together. Then, far too early, with the skies still dark, they rose, shared a pot of strong coffee, and kissed each other goodbye. Sirius followed him to the gate, where they kissed again, and holding his trunk strap in one hand, Remus Apparated to the Bath rail station. 

Sighing, he threw on a set of robes and made his way to the dining hall for supper, setting aside thoughts of Sirius for the moment. Between meeting the rest of the staff, the Headmistress, and getting ready for his lessons that week, it was several days before he could try to write home. 

It was difficult to put things on parchment when they'd only recently begun to feel comfortable with one another again. Add in Sirius's continued status as a fugitive, and his resumption of duties as messenger for Dumbledore, and communication became almost impossible. And, Remus reflected glumly, all the things they still couldn't say to one another. 

His third try looked all right, if a bit formal. He didn't want to write it again, though, and a glance at the clock told him he didn't have time if he wanted the owl to leave that day. This would have to do. At least, he thought as he rolled it up for the journey, it was a start. 

* * *

S. Lupin  
Owl Nook  
Somerset, GB 

2 September, 1995 

Dear "Snuffles," 

I'm settling in here, have met most of the students by now (there's still a class left this afternoon), but I thought I should take advantage of a free period to write, before I have too much homework to grade and you are off again on another errand. 

This place isn't at all what I expected. The whole campus has an antiseptic feeling to it, as if the staff are afraid to let any colour in. The students are all right, though nowhere near as respectful as I've taught in the past. The staff all know, of course, but no one seems to mind much. It's lucky the timing worked out so well--the moon won't be full for another 3 weeks, so I'll have plenty of time to get into the swing of it here before I take my first "trip." That's what the Headmistress suggested I tell them: she seemed to feel they could accept monthly conferences better than a cyclic illness. There's some logic to it, you must admit. 

I do feel terribly far away from home, though. And of course I miss you. Are you sleeping all right? How are the dreams? It's been nearly a week, and I still wake up in the middle of the night, expecting to be home, and I'm not. 

Well, I need to get to class. I've just enough time to get this to the school's owlery and get back to my office to prepare the lesson. I'm starting my fifth years on Runespoors - lecture only, of course! 

Take care of the garden, while you're there--it'll do you good to get out in the sun, as well. Let me know if you can when you'll be off next, so I can hold the owls. If ever you are going to be away for a long time, do let Mrs. Harkness know. She's the Muggle woman down the way--you've met her, remember? She'll take in the post for us. 

Above all, make sure you do come home safe. Say hello to Harry for me, when next you hear from him. Let me know how he's doing--as you said, he's really both our responsibility, now. 

Take care, love. I'll be thinking of you. 

R 

* * *

Sirius woke, sweat-drenched and trembling in the bed he lately shared with his lover. Now Remus was very far away, and with each shuddering breath Sirius took note of the way his pyjama bottoms stuck to his legs, and the way there was blood running freely from his nose, and there were deep scratches on his belly. Sitting up gingerly, he carefully cleared the back of his throat of the thick salty taste of blood, and extracted himself from tangled sheets. 

"Moony, I wish you were here." He murmured as he stumbled from the room and down the stairs to the cottage's one bathroom. With the weak light of the almost dawn creeping through the window, he treated the bloody furrows on his abdomen and washed the blood from his face, neck, and chest. He cleaned the dried blood from under his fingernails mechanically. The dreams were getting worse. They had been better since he was holed up with Remus for most of the summer, but now they were getting bad again. 

Sirius always slept better with his lover's arms around him. It had taken him nearly two weeks at the beginning of the summer to acclimatise to being touched. He no longer jumped with surprise when Remus would put a hand on his back unexpectedly. The first time that happened it took him nearly five minutes to stop his heart from jack-rabbitting through his chest. It had been fourteen years since he had been touched like that. Twelve of them locked away, and two spent living in caves and away from people. Now, he leaned into the caresses, wanting them, needing them, but not able to ask for them. Remus had gentled his knee-jerk reactions, and seemed to know when to press in and when to back off. When he couldn't handle it, and when he could. It was a gift, Sirius knew. One he was grateful for, even though he could not articulate it. He only hoped Moony knew. 

It took three full nights, lying tense, anxious, and awake, for Sirius to relax enough to fall asleep with someone beside him. Remus had been calm through the process, allowing Sirius to set his own pace for their relationship to progress to what it had been before… 

Before Azkaban. That place that stank of fear and hate and cold. That place, desolate as a wasteland, dank and dark and wet. The dreams brought it all back. The cold wave that permeated the cells as Dementors passed by, the times he pulled at his own hair, scratched open his own skin just to *feel* something besides the dark despair. Pain was a friend to him, there. It cleared his mind, it and the animagus transformation kept him sane. As Padfoot, he'd curl into the smallest possible form in the driest corner of his cell. There he made for himself a safe place. It was constructed of his absolute knowledge of his own innocence of the crime he was convicted for. It was an illusion. 

He would wait, allowing the memories the Dementors tormented him with to almost overwhelm him before retreating to dog form. It became a challenge. A sick and twisted way to pass the time. How long could he take the worst bits of his life before changing and resting and trying to stay sane for one more day. [What Severus? You want to know how to trigger the Whomping Willow? Sure I can give you that information… It's brilliant, Peter, don't you see? No one would think James and Lily would make you the Secret Keeper! They'll be safe forever… I'll be a decoy, James. Voldemort will come for me- keep your son safe- he's more important… No I won't tell Remus… Dead… All dead… Who-how-why PETER… No Remus don't believe please don't believe love you neverhurtjamesbestfriend Godslilywhatdidtheydotoyou? Is is is is is Harry… he lives! Let me take… no… how did we get here… did not betray… moony believe me, please!] Never believing it would end. And he would wake from whatever stupor he was in and realise one more day dawned and he was still there. And one more day. And one more day. 

At one point he almost gave up [one point? One point each day, maybe]. He almost let himself slip under and become as insane as the rest of the inhabitants of that dark and foul fortress. Sometimes the anticipation was more than he could stand, waiting for the Dementors to make their rounds. They kept their schedule erratic, he was convinced, just so you never knew, and could never be prepared for their passing [don't be foolish, Padfoot, you can never be prepared no matter what you do…]. And he would hurt himself a little each day to prove to himself his blood still flowed, and as long as his blood flowed, and his heart beat he would fight because James was dead, Lily was dead but his godson lived. Remus lived. *Pettigrew* lived. 

All this came back during the long hours between dusk and dawn. His subconscious was almost worse than the Dementors, because he did this to himself out of some need to entomb himself in Azkaban again. Sirius was used to the dreams. He was used to waking up sweaty and bloody and tear streaked. Lately, though, it hadn't happened as much. Having Remus there calmed the dreams. He still woke up sweat-drenched on occasion, and sometimes his face was wet with tears, but it had been weeks since he'd done bodily harm to himself. Now, it seemed, with Remus gone to Canada, he would be waking up bloody more often again. 

Well, he'd done it before. It wasn't new territory for him. As the sun rose and the day began, he sat outside in the bright warmth. The sun was magical to him now. He had spent twelve years in perpetual shadow; now he couldn't get enough of the sun. If he could be a little less tense for attack [don't take foolish risks, discovery could happen at any time] he'd like to wander around the little yard starkers. As it was he contented himself with lying on the cool, slightly damp grass clad only in his pyjama bottoms. Or he'd curl up in dog form and nap in the sun. 

Later he would de-gnome the yard. They'd been getting bolder and bolder and it was time to show them who was boss. First, though, he thought he'd let Padfoot out to chase them a bit. He didn't hurt them, but catching them in his mouth and growling fiercely gave him a ridiculously joyous thrill. If Moony were home he wouldn't have even considered doing it, knowing Moony wouldn't think it funny. But Moony was gone, and he needed something to raise his spirits. 

The morning post brought a letter from Harry, and he let Hedwig in to rest as he answered the letter, gratified that Harry's fifth year was getting off to such a good beginning. As he was sending Hedwig off another letter arrived, this one from Dumbledore. He wanted a meeting with Sirius for the day after tomorrow. Sirius knew what it was about, what it *had* to be about. He was being sent off- travelling for the Order of the Phoenix. Doing something to fight the good fight, save the world from the forces of evil, he'd go and sweat and bleed and die for a population that believed him a murderer and dangerous escaped convict. If caught, he would get the Dementor's Kiss. No trial, no questions, and everyone would sleep a bit better because the *dangerous* Sirius Black finally got what he deserved. The irony was not lost on Sirius, and in his lowest moments he wondered what the hell kept him going forward, putting his life on the line every single day. [You do it for James, your best friend, your Prongs who loved you and trusted you without question. You do it for Lily, who died to save her only child, she who should have had a house full of children, a house full of love, with a heart bigger and more accepting than any you'd ever known. You do it for Harry, who merely by living became a target, who could have killed and chose not to, who looked for any parched excuse to find something in you worth redemption. You do it for Remus, for Moony, your mate and pack and leader and as necessary to you as breathing, who never forgot and never succumbed, whom you love with a devotion that is as scary as it is comforting, because it makes you afraid it can all happen again.] 

Two days, and he'd be gone from here. Gone from Owl Nook, that still had Moony's scent clinging to every scrap of fabric, to every rug, every curtain, every bit of upholstery. He had not changed the sheets, hoping to keep the comforting smell of his lover lingering to calm his dreams [now you will have to change them, wash out the bloodstains from last night, lose the comforting presence of your wolf- the illusion he's still here instead of so far away]. Each night Sirius found himself curling up with one of Remus's shirts- a soft old knit shirt that he hadn't washed after the last time he wore it. During the day, it resided under his pillow, but before he slept, it was wound around his neck, brushed over his bare chest. Covering his face as he breathed through the material. Just before he drifted off, he carefully hung it over the headboard so he wouldn't mar its perfect Remus-scent with his own sweat, urine, blood, and tears. 

Two days. He had things to do. A spot of gardening, a visit to their closest Muggle neighbour, Mrs. Harkness, to ask if she could keep an eye on the place. A check of the grounds, making sure the charm against Muggles seeing the magic of the cottage was still strong and working the way it ought. Laundry. Tomorrow he would write to Remus. Let him know he'd be gone. He could get Dumbledore to post it for him at his meeting, if he didn't receive an owl post from Moony before then. So, he'd clean up the Nook, and write to his lover, and try to rest before his next mission for the Order. 

At least he'd have a respite from the dreams. Sirius knew he couldn't afford to have them while out: it was too dangerous. It made them just that much worse when he finally was in a safe place, but he'd deal with that as well. He was used to it. 

* * *

Professor R. J. Lupin  
Commonweath Academy of Magic  
Manitoba, Canada 

9 September, 1995 

My dearest Moony, 

I'm off again in the morning. I can't say it disappoints me, as you're not here anyway. I've already spoken with Mrs. Harkness, and she tittered on quite embarrassingly about taking care of the cottage. "Anything for nice, kind, *ill* Mr. Lupin." I swear your neighbours think I am just some bumbling git who muddies up your carpets. A not-so-well-off relative, perhaps, or a down-and-out fair-weather-friend. And I can hear you now... I don't shed all *that* much! 

The garden is all right. Sun is still shining occasionally, but I won't have anything to do with those biting flowers. I don't remember their name, but you can darn well weed them yourself when you get home. I refuse to bleed for a *plant* for god's sake! And they're ugly- those great round brown fleshy things with sharp little teeth... ugh! I'd rather repot mandrakes! Everything else looks good. The rain lately has been a blessing. I de-gnomed the garden and yard yesterday, and it will probably need it again by the time I get back. We've got a pixie nest starting down near the stand of birches. Annoying little pests! I didn't have time to do anything about it, but maybe those horrors of the biting flowers will take care of them before I get back. Hey, I can dream, right? (And, yes, I know the flowers pose no real threat to the pixies, but I like the mental image of one of those flowers *choking* on an irritating pixie...) 

Don't worry about the dreams. I have them all the time when you are gone, there's nothing either one of us can do about it. I've learned to cope. I do sleep better when you're with me, my beautiful Moony, but I have a job to do. And so do you. When this war has finally ended I shall be the happiest man on this earth. 

I just got a letter from Harry. He arrived back at Hogwarts, and school seems to be going well for him. Even this early in the year Hermione is at the top of the class; he said something about her finishing her summer reading before August. Sounds like Miss Granger, eh, Moony? Ron hopes to make it on the reserve Quidditch team later this year along with one of their other roommates, a Seamus Finnigan- a boy I haven't met, but Harry seems to think he'll make a fine chaser. I guess most of the team graduates at the end of the year, so they're trying to train replacements. All in all, it sounds as if he's doing well. He's found out the schedule for the Hogsmeade weekends, and I hope to be able to see him on at least one of them. 

Anyway, I should be back soon, I hope. It all depends on exactly what Albus wants this time. Perhaps I'll be able to stop by and see you when this mission is over. I am glad the staff isn't too put out by your monthly "trip"- is that what they're calling it? What a euphemism! 

I'll owl when I get back. Don't worry, love, please don't worry. I *am* careful. 

I shall continue to be your loving, 

S. 

Postscript: Snuffles Lupin? I sound rather like I have a terrible case of allergies, or that I'm contagious with a strange disease… And does this mean you've adopted me? Where do you prefer to have got me from? Orphanage or pound? I'm rather a mangy looking mutt- you'd best say pound. You're such a soft touch no one else would have me. 

* * *

Sirius appeared outside the gate at Owl Nook, stumbled, and caught himself on the stone wall. He moved carefully to the gate, but his blood-slicked fingers slipped off the handle twice before he got a good grip and opened it. Gasping with pain and holding his side, he made it to the door before his knees gave out and he collapsed. He waited a moment for the black motes to stop dancing in his vision before he reached up and opened the door, pulling himself inside. 

Home. He kicked the door closed and made it to his hands and knees. With a deep breath, he pulled himself to his feet through stubborn strength of will alone. Leaning heavily on the walls for support, he made his way to the bathroom, paying no mind to the bloody hand prints he left in his wake. 

Thank the gods Moony kept his medicine cabinet well stocked. Wincing, Sirius managed to slip out of his clothing to take stock of his injuries. The fight was hazy in his mind, but he knew that was more due to the dull ache in his head and blood loss than to the strain of the last 48 hours, seeing Dumbledore yesterday, arranging the Order meeting today, and then the disaster that awaited them. As he hunted through the cupboard for potions and curatives, he tried to sort out what went wrong. 

He remembered he'd managed to shout "Apparate" to the gathered wizards of the Order, before charging the Death Eaters. They'd been watching for them. The Death Eaters had surrounded them with hardly a moment's warning. He'd watched each of Dumbledore's people Apparate out, except for Fletcher and Figg, who were closest to the Dark wizards, and had been caught almost before they knew the meeting was compromised. 

It had become chaos at that point. As Padfoot, Sirius leapt for the Death Eaters holding Figg and bit the arms holding her, tangling himself in the robes of one wizard. It was crude, but it worked. Newly free, Figg took out her wand and cursed the Death Eaters holding Fletcher, releasing him. In the next moment they were both gone, and Sirius fought to free himself so he could escape. A knife sliced into his side along his ribs. Padfoot whirled around at his attacker, growling and snapping. It was the one whose wand hand he'd bit, and Padfoot dimly realised what happened: the Death Eater dropped his wand, but with his free hand he retrieved the damned knife. Once the Order members were gone, Voldemort's people started to disappear as well, until it was just Sirius and his adversary, scrambling for the lost wand. 

Sirius received a booted foot to the side of his face to keep him away from the wand, and he spun nose over tail from the force of the blow. In panic, his robed adversary grabbed his wand again and was gone, leaving Sirius swaying with pain and covered in blood. Doggedly, he transformed back to human form. His gaze swept the meeting place to make sure nothing important was left behind, and he, too, Apparated out. Somehow he managed to make it back home without splinching from the shock or the fatigue. 

Taking stock, he quickly unstoppered the vial of Heal-Quick potion and slathered it over his wounds, wincing as it bubbled and stung. Using his wand, he traced over the split skin and it sealed itself. Then he turned his attention to the injuries to his face. His nose had stopped bleeding, one eye was swollen shut, and the whole side of his face was purple and black. "I look like I got the shit kicked out of me…" He muttered darkly to his reflection. Wincing again as he lifted the wand he concentrated on healing the bruising around his eye. Some of the bruising would have to heal the old fashioned way, but the minute fractures of his cheek bone and ocular cavity he could do something about. The concussion was a different matter, and he knew he would pay with a headache of monster proportions when he was finished with the rudimentary healing he thought was necessary. 

Ignoring the throbbing in his head that the effort to heal himself gave him, he washed quickly, pausing only to calm the nausea that moving about seemed to bring on. He wanted clean clothes, he realised as through a fog. Pulling on pants seemed like a huge effort, though, and he was unwilling to try to navigate the stairs when his head felt like it might explode. Sirius rummaged in the bathroom hamper for a moment. Pyjama bottoms would have to do. Later, when he was better, he'd soak in the tub for a while and tuck himself into bed to rest, but he couldn't do that now. His body no longer thrummed with suppressed rage, but he still wasn't calm. Unable to think, unable to eat, unable to rest, he moved gingerly through the house, taking a measure of calm from the familiar scent of Remus that he encountered in every room. It was too risky to contact Dumbledore right away, though he knew he had to report soon. Instead, he sat and tried to write a letter to Remus, tense throughout and expecting an attack. Unable to sit still even for that, he wandered bare-chested into the yard to sit in the sun and try to calm down enough to think. Lying back on the scratchy grass, he threw an arm over his eyes. He tried to hold back the tears of pain and fatigue, his mind pulsing with black surges of hate and rage, but was unsuccessful as he felt scalding wetness against his arm. Pushing the emotions down, he stopped the weeping with supreme effort. He had to concentrate. The fuzziness clouding his mind had to be cleared so he could think objectively about the situation. "Prongs, I wish you were here." He whispered, "Moony, where are you?" 

[Dumbledore needs to know. They were there waiting for us. They *knew* there was an Order meeting in that place at that time today. How? Someone must have told them. Someone is passing information. Dammit!] Sirius slammed his fist into the earth, frustrated. [We just got up and running again and we have a spy. We've been so careful. How does this keep happening? We're not even *official*! Technically the Order doesn't exist. Nobody believes that Voldemort is back, why would he risk it? Why *now*? It doesn't make sense!] 

Questions swirled around him as the early autumn sunshine baked into him, calming him down. He'd go to Dumbledore tomorrow. Damn. Off again so *soon.* He'd write to Moony. He had to write to Moony. It might help him think, bleed a little of the fury out before he made his formal report. 

* * *

Professor Remus Lupin  
Commonwealth Academy of Magic  
Manitoba, Canada 

11 September, 1995 

Remus, 

I am heart-sore, heartsick and weary beyond belief. I am also home. I wish you were here, Moony. More than anything I wish you were here. I've wandered around this little cottage and I can still smell you here. Your scent clings to everything and makes me feel marginally better. The mission was a complete failure. I suppose I must take solace in the fact that no one died. It was close, though. It's a good thing you keep the medicine cabinet well stocked. If this keeps up we'll need some more of the quick-heal potion, you know, the purple one, before long. 

Damn DEs had information. The Order has a... "leak"- I think is the term I am looking for. I lose words when I am enraged, as I am now. I am so damn *angry* that it is the same old shit. We thought Pettigrew the only spy. Obviously not. Or maybe this is a new leak. I shudder that anyone in the Order *now* would turn. We've been so damn careful. But then, I don't know all of the members of the Order. Only Dumbledore knows us all. I will be speaking to him tomorrow. I have to go face-to-face. I can not trust this to owl post, or even the fireplace. I can trust this letter will get to you unmolested because, if you notice, I am using Harry's owl. She is an uncommonly fine bird. Harry knows I've got her for a while, so you can use her to send me a note. She is one of the only owls that will *always* be able to find me, no matter where I am. I *will* be careful on my way to Hogwarts. Never fear. 

I am sorry I won't have time to work in the garden before I go off again. I long for warm days spent with you in our little yard, de-gnoming, weeding, planting, growing... Those days will come again, soon, love. Very soon. Once I've spoken to Dumbledore, I don't know where he'll send me next. If it's at all close to your school I will stop by. Hell, I may stop by even if it is not. I *need* it. I need to see and make sure you are safe. Make sure you are *there*. Sounds rather pathetic, doesn't it? We both know you are the stronger of us. That *I* am the more fragile life. But, oh, my beautiful Moony, I long for you. I long to touch you, hear your voice, to run with you under the stars. 

Soon, my beloved. 

As ever, 

S. 

* * *

S. Lupin  
Owl Nook   
Somerset, GB 

18 September, 1995 

S--- 

I've read your letter twice over in the last five minutes, and Hedwig is taking a much-needed rest here for a bit before I send her back. I was so relieved to see her, but then to read what you had to say--I'm stunned. 

By comparison, life in Canada is no adventure at all. Odd as it sounds, I don't think it's anyone from the old crowd, but then my information isn't much up to date, is it? Well, you and Dumbledore will know what's best to do, I'm sure. Gods, I feel guilty as hell for taking this job so far away. 

Do visit, if you can. I want to see for myself that you're taken care of. Give you a thorough examination for new scars. And yes, the country here is amazing. There's a small mountain range only half a day or so by Muggle car--easy Apparating distance. Gorman, the Charms professor, assures me there are any number of excellent trails. There are all kinds of lakes and rivers, and rich pine forests to run through. And oh, gods, the stars at night are brighter than any I've ever seen. I hoped to take some week-ends exploring, and of course if you were here.... Well, come if you can. And don't worry--I'm safe as can be here. It's you that concerns me. 

Muffin, if you're fragile, then I must be indestructible. Where did that come from? Pathetic, indeed. Old fellow, get a grip on yourself. That's Azkaban talking, and you know it. I won't stand for it. If we have to be apart, you'll bloody well hold up like a wizard who knows what he's about. Take care of yourself first, Harry second, and leave me for last, I'm all right. 

You know you can use anything in the house you need--and I'll see what I can do about restocking that other potion for you. The Potions professor here is everything Snape isn't--kind, pleasant, and quite obliging. Very pretty too, which we could never say of Severus. She's also the best potions maker this side of the Atlantic, I'm told. I may be able to wangle her into making up a vial or two to send back for you. And sod the garden, I only said that to try to keep you out of trouble, as if that would ever work. My beloved Padfoot, up to your neck as usual, hm? If we can keep the cottage standing, that would be a help, but if that's all we lose, I shan't begrudge it. Especially if it's a choice between the house and you, for example. 

I'm going to give this to Hedwig, but you should be careful about using her too much for this run. By my estimate, it takes even a fast, sturdy owl like her at least a week to make the crossing. I doubt Harry would appreciate it if Hedwig aged prematurely! I'll ask her to take a school owl with her to learn the route. 

Keep your head, love. It's no good to anyone if you go off on a tirade. Be clever, as I know you can be. Be smart, as I know you are. Be safe, for I could not lose you again. 

Your own, 

R

* * *

**TBC...**


	2. This Empty Canyon

Between the Lines 02 

**Between the Lines (2/?)**

**Author: **Beasties-Boys  
**Author email: **Beasties-Boys@fictionalley.org  
**Category: **General, Drama, Angst, Romance  
**House: **Schnoogle  
**Keywords:**Sirius, Remus, letters, Year 5, slash  
**Spoilers:** All the books (so far)   
**Rating: **R  
**Pairing: **Sirius Black/Remus Lupin; Percy/Oliver implied; Harry/Ron implied.   
**Summary: **In a story that parallels the timing of "In this World of Strangers" and "Take the Chance," Remus accepts a one-year job in Canada while Sirius is left to play courier for Dumbledore. Will their separation after so little time together strengthen them or drive them further apart?   
  
**Disclaimer: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. While the authors firmly believe the pairing is plausible, desirable, and just right, we also acknowledge the unlikelihood of anything like it ever happening in the books. So enjoy it here, at any rate.  
  
**Authors Notes: **This is a collaboration between two fanfiction authors; Gwendolyn Grace and Ajes Blue. Many, *many* thanks to our wonderful betas, Cairnsy and phatgirlfics. 

* * *

**Chapter Two: This Empty Canyon**

** No One Knows But You   
Beth Nielsen Chapman**  
_  
I can almost feel you smiling  
From beyond those silver skies  
As you watch me finding my way  
Here without you in my life  
  
No one knows but you  
How I feel inside  
No one knows  
No one knows but you  
  
I've come so close to believing  
All the echoes in the wind  
Brushing my hair off my shoulders  
I feel you there once again  
  
No one knows but you  
How I feel inside  
No one knows  
No one knows but you  
  
And if there is some magic  
Some way around these stars  
Some road that I can travel  
To get to where you are  
I'll cry this empty canyon  
An ocean full of tears  
And I won't stop believing   
That your love is always near  
  
No one knows but you  
How I feel inside  
No one knows  
No one knows but you  
_

* * *

"Who can tell me the difference between a hex and a curse?" Remus asked, leaning against his desk before his first-year, what the Academy called sixth-grade, students. 

Several hands rose tentatively. "Mr. Adair?" Remus indicated with a nod. 

"A hex leaves a mark," the student said. 

"Correct. Any other distinctions, Miss Delacroix?" 

The girl answered in heavy French-Canadian accent. "The hex wears off in a short while, but the curse has an effect which lasts?" 

Remus nodded agreement. "And for how long does a curse last, Miss Halsey?" 

Miss Halsey wrinkled her nose. "Doesn't that depend on the curse?" 

"It does. Why?" Remus scanned the room for another student to ask. "Mr. Jenner?" 

Rick Jenner looked up from a piece of parchment. "Uh…don't they have permanent effects?" He asked, glancing furtively from left to right to see if anyone else had said this already. 

"Some do, Mr. Jenner. What else determines the length of a curse effect?" Lupin took a step into the aisle between desks, closing in on Jenner. His eyes flicked down to the parchment on the student's desk. 

"Er… Caster concentration, eh?" Jenner folded the parchment without looking at it. 

"Concentration plays a large role, Mr. Jenner. Very good. You're studying your class notes, I see," Remus said evenly, looking again at the parchment on Jenner's desk. 

Jenner met his gaze without flinching or blushing. "Yes, Professor," he said with a nod. Still, it seemed clear that the reedy professor knew otherwise. 

"Excellent," Professor Lupin said with a small smile, and walked back to the front of the class. "So, if a curse requires concentration to keep going, what does that tell us about the use of concentration in permanent-effect spells?" 

Again, several students raised their hands. He called on one or two, but carefully drew other students, less apt to show off, into the conversation. He kept one eye on Jenner, who fingered the parchment absently, but dared not open it up again during the lesson. 

They spent a few more minutes discussing theory, then moved on to some practice with hexes and counter-hexes. As they paired off to practise, Remus prevented Jenner from partnering his usual comrade-criminal, Devon Threeclaw. "Mr. Threeclaw, could you work with Mr. Timmons today? And Mr. Jenner, why don't you pair up with Miss Morse? Thank you," he directed them effortlessly, but firmly enough to get no arguments. After so many years being on the inside of an instant gang, he recognised one when he saw it. Threeclaw and Jenner together were four times worse than either alone. 

The school year was moving along quickly. Though not even a month had passed, Lupin found himself fitting in well enough. He had immediately quashed any attempts to put him over, and there had been a few, with his quiet reserve and patient humour. 

There was a brief day or two when Remus's French almost got him into trouble. Though fluent, there could be no denying that his French was Parisienne, and a source of great amusement to his few Quebeçois students. After his first all-French lesson, Remus visited the school library (not as impressive as Hogwarts's, but slightly better organised), and familiarised himself with the Translation Charm. It had come in handy during a brief stint in Louisiana, years ago, but he hadn't needed it for ages. He used it during classes, and found that even now and then on the grounds, it helped catch nuances he'd never encountered on the continent. 

After that, the students seemed to understand rapidly that he was not to be trifled with, that he respected their rights to be children, but that he equally expected them to pay attention, to work hard, and to tender him respect in return. Already, he found that during his office hours - required of the staff for the older students - upperclassmen streamed through, asking advice or seeking help. 

Even when he doled out discipline, most of the students didn't hate him for it. In his second week, he had caught a sixth-year (an eleventh-grader, he reminded himself) with a hand-held soundbox in class. It wasn't so much the presence of the contraband that bothered Lupin, they could all tell, it was that a student felt it a more valuable use of time to listen to music than his lecture. With a pained expression, Lupin confiscated the player and the magical disc inside it, shut them in his drawer, and informed the young man that now he would have to practice his countermeasures while the whole class threw curses at him (non-lethal, of course, despite what Miss Gerard may wish to do to him). The student grumbled, and Remus fixed him with a trademark withering stare. "Would you rather we pursue this matter at a higher level, Mr. Appleton?" 

"No, Professor," came the sullen reply. 

"Then, I suggest you prepare yourself. Wand out, please." It was perhaps fortunate that Gilbert Appleton was known for his trouble-making tendencies throughout the school. The son of a prominent Canadian wizarding family, he seemed to feel his name and status would suffice to pave his way for him. By inadvertently making an object lesson of him, Remus found he secured a reputation as a tough, but fair, customer. 

So it was with some amazement that Remus returned to his quarters one night to glance at his calendar. It had been three full weeks since he'd written to Sirius, at least anything beyond his hasty note of reassurance after what sounded like a disastrous meeting of the Order. He had at least heard a few days later from Professor Dumbledore, assuring him that Sirius was all right, that no permanent damage had been done, asking how Remus enjoyed his position at the Academy, remembering himself to the Headmistress and his old friend, Edina Agglesbury, and asking him to keep a look out for likely Quidditch players. The last request seemed rather odd, as neither he nor Dumbledore ordinarily paid much attention to the game, but he dutifully began attending practices about a week ago and planned to let Sirius know about their leader's newest eccentricity. 

His return letter to Dumbledore was not nearly as light as he hoped it would be. He found himself halfway down the second page, expressing his concern over Sirius, both because of his still wanted status, and because of the dreams. 

Sirius's dreams haunted Remus almost as much as if he were the victim. It simply broke his heart to see his Padfoot, soaked in his own sweat, trembling with the effort of surviving his nightmares. Though he knew neither he nor Sirius would shirk any duty that might end the war before it properly began, he truly wondered whether it was wise to put Sirius in a position of such responsibility right now. He longed to let them hide away for a year or so, while he slowly put his packmate back together. And longer, if necessary. After so many years of constant torture and anguish, he was actually surprised Sirius seemed to be getting better so quickly. 

They had come so far in such a short summer. Their first meeting, over a year since the last time they had seen each other, had been awkward and painful. Padfoot had appeared, scratching at Remus's side door one rainy night, sitting out on the stoop under the eaves as if afraid Remus wouldn't let him in. Remus, who had received an owl from Dumbledore only a day or so before, had been waiting, watching for his old friend, and wondering if they could ever be more again. 

Remus invited the huge dog in amiably. "There you are. Thank goodness you're safe. Come on in, Padfoot." Padfoot looked up gratefully, and with a tentative tail wag, passed by Remus, licking his hand once on the way. He held himself still, as if resisting the urge to shake himself dry. 

Remus schooled himself for this first real meeting, but marvelled at the way his heart leapt between his throat and his stomach. He concentrated on remaining neutral, not moving suddenly or upsetting his friend. [Friends first,] he reminded himself. [He needs you as a friend now, nothing more. You don't even know if he wants anything else.] He locked and warded the door methodically, then turned to the black behemoth who now occupied much of his kitchen. 

"Hungry?" He asked pleasantly, thinking first of the basics. He was answered immediately with a whine and a head bob that could have been nodding. "I think I've got a steak… shall I fry it up for you?" Padfoot's tail began to wag, but it wasn't the insistent, unabashed wagging Remus remembered. The giant dog's posture was hesitant, unsure, his body language weak and pathetic by comparison. 

Remus slowly got to all fours in the kitchen, to bring himself on a level with Padfoot. He drew back a little in a greeting pose, looking just below Padfoot's eyes in an expression of non-aggression. "It's all right, Padfoot. It's still me," he said softly. The pungent smell of wet dog filled his nostrils, but underneath it he could smell his old friend. 

Padfoot whined once, then dropped to his belly and wiggled forward a little closer to where Remus stood on his hands and knees. Padfoot wiggled again, side to side, this time, as if he wanted to roll over, but was wary of being so vulnerable. Remus very slowly raised one hand, wrist bent, for Padfoot to sniff. Padfoot crawled forward enough to rest his jaw against Remus's hand, his rubbing motion flipping the limp palm upward to caress him. Then Remus stroked along Padfoot's neck soothingly, moving up to scratch reassuringly behind one ear. With an audible sigh, Padfoot stretched underneath Remus's hand, and there, suddenly, lying on the floor, was Sirius. 

He was muddy all over, wet through. His robes were torn several places, and he wore a new-looking pair of jeans underneath them. The replacement wand that Ollivander had provided him through Dumbledore stuck out from one of his pockets. His boots were caked in dust and dirt. He looked far too thin, as he had that night in the Shrieking Shack-the last time they had seen each other. His hair was still long, though not as long as it had been that night, and sections of it had matted themselves where it fell beyond his shoulders. It was slick and stuck to his forehead from the water that dripped onto the floor. His skin was ashy and drawn, as if he hadn't slept properly in a long time. Despite all that, he was beautiful. It was a moment before Remus could do anything but look at him. 

"Gods, you're a mess," Remus commented in a controlled, neutral tone. 

Sirius coughed to clear his throat. "Yes. I've been…travelling." His voice sounded like gravel, but he echoed the carefully guarded modulation remarkably well. As a dog, Remus could read him clearly - he knew those signals, even if they were not the Padfoot he knew. Dogs had a language of their own, and he understood its clear indications. But now that Sirius was back in his human form, Remus couldn't tell what Sirius was thinking. It unnerved him, but he pressed on. 

"Want to have a bath while I fix your dinner?" He asked lamely, knowing it was a densely impersonal thing to say, but it satisfied a basic need, and he decided Sirius had to start with that, and then work up to other levels of importance. 

"Yes… thank you," Sirius nodded slowly, woodenly, as if forcing himself to remember how to have a polite conversation. Which, Remus thought, probably wasn't far off from the truth. Sirius stood, but hesitated a moment and asked awkwardly, "Clean clothes?" 

"I'll find you some." Remus realised Sirius was probably wondering how he knew to expect him. "Dumbledore owled me that you'd be coming," he said to fill the void. He got to his feet. 

"Yes... I thought he might warn you..." Sirius said under his breath. Still, he didn't move, as if he had something to say, but didn't know how. Again, Remus filled the gap with what he felt a perfectly stupid question. 

"So… it's finally happened, then?" 

"Yes…" Sirius choked the word out. He continued in a terrified whisper, "Harry…could have died…." 

"He's all right, though? Now?" Remus asked more sharply than he intended, his voice tinged with concern. 

Sirius jerked his head up at the sudden urgency of Remus's tone. His eyes found their focus on Remus's face and he nodded. "Oh. Yes. Another student…." He trailed off, unsure what else to say about it. 

Remus's reaction again surprised Sirius with its compassion. "My god…." He drew a quick breath and spoke more forcefully, as if to shake off the dolour of the brief, cryptic conversation. "I shouldn't keep you standing here," he said in a perfect host kind of way. "Go have your bath. You'll feel better for it. I'll take care of everything from there." 

Sirius turned to comply, but reversed himself before really moving. Again, Remus felt the wave of uncertainty pass over him. [It's as if he wants to say something but doesn't know what.] Sirius groped for words for a moment. Then, settling on, "Thank you," he left the room. 

Remus collected himself with a deep breath. He pulled the steak out of the icebox and seasoned it, then, when he was sure Sirius was in the bathroom, he passed the closed door and went upstairs to find his guest towels, a comfortable bathrobe, and a baggy pair of pyjama bottoms. He brought the bundle downstairs, and set the lot on a chair just outside the bathroom door, not wanting to startle Sirius by opening it. He puttered about the kitchen, fixing the steak, and when it was ready, he kept it warm with a warming charm and waited. 

Almost an hour later, Sirius appeared, hovering in the kitchen doorway. He was wearing the pyjama bottoms and the robe, his hair wet and glistening, but still somewhat matted and unkempt. "I…left my clothes on the hamper in the bathroom," he said apologetically, as if afraid that this was the wrong thing to do. 

"I'll take care of it," Remus said, rising sedately and making up Sirius's plate. "Sit. Eat." He reduced his commands to simple concepts, fearing that Sirius could not process anything more complicated by the look of him. It was much like talking to a dog - a real dog - with recognisable commands. 

Sirius shuffled forward to the place where Remus had set his dinner, murmuring a soft, "Thank you." Remus had already eaten, but knowing that it would make Sirius uncomfortable to be watched, he poured himself a glass of the same pumpkin juice he served Sirius, and made it last as long as his friend's meal. Sirius approached the steak slowly, remembering how to use the knife and fork after so long. He cut raggedly into the steak, not even really noticing what he was doing. He chewed the first few bites mechanically, concentrating on the food, and not his dinner companion. It was only about halfway through that he realised it was seared to perfection, just done enough on the inside to be warm, but juicy, and he looked up with tears springing to his eyes. 

"It's perfect…" he commented quietly. "You remember just how I like it," he blurted, catching himself too late. 

Remus smiled as Sirius bent down over another bite. "Of course I do, puppy," he said tenderly, then, realising his mistake, he looked away quickly in embarrassment. 

"Oh!" Sirius glanced up at the old endearment, the term they used to use for each other as easily as other couples called each other "dear" or "sweetheart." But Remus was looking out the quarter-paned window in the door, so Sirius couldn't tell whether he had actually heard it, or just imagined it. He looked away again before the tears spilled out silently, concentrating on his food again to stop their flow. 

A brief, oppressive silence descended over the table. A second or two later, Remus sniffed and drew in a loud breath, turning back. "Sorry," he said, as if he had just been lost in thought. "So… what other student?" He asked, torn among wanting to hear, not wanting to know, not wanting to make Sirius uncomfortable, but wanting Sirius to start speaking, communicating, anything to establish some contact. 

"Oh…." Sirius rubbed his eyes hastily, as if clearing them, and drew a steadying breath. "The other Hogwarts champion. Harry…saw him die…." 

The news rocked Remus back in his chair. "Cedric?" He gasped in shock. He had heard about the Triwizard Tournament throughout the year, followed the stories in the _Daily Prophet_ as well as received reports from students and teachers at Hogwarts. Then the second part of Sirius's news hit him as well. "Harry… gods, what happened?" 

Sirius remembered now that Remus had taught Defence Against the Dark Arts there in Harry's third year, so he also knew the other boy who died. He began, haltingly, to relate to Remus the things Harry had told him and Dumbledore the night after the Third Task. 

"I…the cup. The tournament prize. It was a portkey. Took them both to where Voldemort was... being reborn... Harry says Peter was there. He used Harry's blood to bring Voldemort back." He stumbled through the gruesome tale as best he could. When he reached the point about the wands, "He…saw Lily and James, Remus. Saw them. Spoke to them…" some uneasy tears tipped out of his eyes and he fell silent. He took a long sip of pumpkin juice before continuing. "Harry fought Voldemort and got away. Used the portkey to come back…. But then we almost lost him again. If it hadn't been for Albus…." He brought the narrative to a close by explaining that Dumbledore sent him to re-ignite the Order of the Phoenix. 

Another short silence hung between them, but this time it was Remus who had new and shocking information to process. "I see," he said finally, with the sort of steel in his voice that Sirius had always admired so. "What does Albus need us to do?" Remus sounded ready to start out that night, if necessary. 

Sirius could not disguise the relief on his face upon hearing Remus's intention to stand with them. "I've been contacting the old Order members. Fudge refuses to believe... You're my last stop." He paused, unsure how Remus would react to the statement. But Remus said nothing, so he continued in a rush, "Dumbledore asked me to stay here out of sight for a bit. I can find somewhere else if you prefer..." 

"Nonsense," Remus said amicably. "Stay you shall." His heart beat twice as fast as usual, but he kept his voice studiously gracious and companionable. 

Again, Sirius seemed relieved, but still worried. "Thank you…" he said yet again. It seemed to be the one sentence he expressed over and over, a mainstay of his speech. 

"Not at all," Remus said in what he hoped was a chummy but not too pressuring way. He smiled, and looked at Sirius from the corner of his eye, a mischievous tone creeping into his voice. "In fact, I've been thinking I need a watchdog to chase away the rabbits from the vegetable garden." 

It was Remus's turn to be relieved, for he saw the ghost of a smile pass across Sirius's face. "You expect me to chase the rabbits from your garden?" He asked bemusedly. "I think I might be able to manage that. Only fair. Earn my keep and all," he offered without bitterness, latching on to the humour Remus offered. 

"Well, I can't very well let you loaf about doing nothing, can I?" Remus acknowledged with a shrug. He rose and cleared Sirius's cleaned plate, rinsing it in the sink. When he finished, he cleared his throat a bit awkwardly. "Well, I suppose I should give you the one-knut tour?" 

Sirius stood also, but reluctant to let the light mood pass, he answered. "I... Yes... Haven't got a knut on me, though. Can I owe you?" He offered a weak smile. 

Remus cocked his head in an appraising look. "I'll make an exception for you, pu - Padfoot." He sidled around Sirius and led them back into the hall. "I hope you didn't look in at the Park first," he asked, the thought just occurring to him. The last time Sirius visited, his family still lived up at their big manor, Aethenum Park. Six years ago, Remus had had to close the place and sell off most of the furnishings to pay his father's death taxes. Two years later, his mother died, and he put the Park itself on the market. It had only just sold that past April, but as the new owner hoped to put in extensive renovation, no one occupied it at the moment. 

"No... Dumbledore gave me directions... Didn't need them once I got within about a kilometer, though..." 

Remus made a face, smelling himself mockingly. "I don't smell that bad, do I?" He asked as they peeked in at the dining room and office in the front of the house. 

"No!" Sirius barked, startled by the statement. "You smell wonderful -" He broke off, blushing. "I... I just meant... I remember you... I followed my nose to where it smelled like home..." he trailed off, afraid of saying too much, and worried that he sounded too wistful, too needy. 

Remus turned back as they returned to the foot of the stairs. "I'm glad you still think of it as home," he said softly. He deliberately said, "it," meaning the house, though Sirius had never actually lived here. He reflexively gave his former lover a graceful exit, if indeed Sirius no longer felt as Remus did. 

He continued quickly, as if to blot out the statement altogether. "Well, you've seen the bath," he said, pointing to the bathroom addition against the rear exterior wall. "That's the sitting room." They peeked inside a room to the left of the bath, against the staircase. "And the…bedrooms are upstairs." He tried not to emphasise the word too much, but he feared he still stumbled over the plural. 

Sirius cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Yes…" he acknowledged sadly. 

Remus took the first step up, continuing with forced brightness. "So…come on up and… we'll get you settled." 

Picking up the mood, Sirius tried to put forth the same effort to be casual. "Settled, yes." He echoed. "Rest would be good." 

"I'm sorry I don't have much to offer you," Remus said as they climbed the stairs, then turned and walked along the railing to the twin doors at the opposite end of the short corridor. "But I haven't really done much inside. Old bachelor life, I suppose. Here," he said, opening the door of the smaller bedroom. He waved his wand at the fireplace, and a bright, warm flame sprung to life in the hearth. He turned back and inspected the sheets briefly, to make sure they were fresh, though he had made up the bed himself only yesterday. 

Again, Sirius hovered, as if afraid to enter new territory. He crossed the threshold tentatively, looking about. Remus's things were everywhere. The bed itself was one of several antiques he rescued from the assets, a stately-looking sleigh bed of carved cherry; a bookshelf stood against one wall with old textbooks and novels from their youth; and a wardrobe dominated the corner, sharing the outer wall with a dressing table and washstand. "It... it's more than I had any right to expect." Sirius sidled forward into room, the lingering scent of Remus resting sharply on his tongue. "I... I should rest," he said reluctantly. "It's been a long few days…." He trailed off, and again Remus had the overpowering sense that the other wanted to say more, but nothing happened. 

"Of course," Remus forced himself to say politely. He crossed back to the door. "If you need anything…" he began. 

"Thank you," Sirius said again, automatically, as he sat gingerly on the bed, testing its feel underneath him. Remus went into the hall. "Remus?" Sirius asked suddenly, a hint of the old spark reverberating in his urgency. 

Remus gripped the railing over the stairs. The sound of his own name on Sirius's lips made him feel weak in the knees. His stomach turned over on itself; his breath hitched strangely, and he felt his eyes close briefly over threatening tears. "Yes, lo- Sirius?" He turned to face his guest again. His past. His friend. His anchor. 

Sirius seemed about to say something, but then his expression softened to bewilderment. "I - nothing. Nothing. I - Thank you," he finished again, a small shrug lifting his shoulders. 

Very gently, and very deliberately, Remus spoke again. "You are welcome here, Padfoot. Most welcome." He infused the statement with all the sympathy, protection, friendship, trust, and love he could muster. His grip on the railing was the only thing keeping him standing, the only string tying him to a reality where he would *not* rush forward into Sirius's arms, would not kneel before his lover and shower him with kisses. 

Sirius said nothing. If Remus had been in the room, he might have seen the tears that welled in the man's black eyes. Instead, he shifted his weight a little in preparation to go. 

"Look, I'm just across the hall if you need anything. All right?" 

Sirius sighed, weary and pathetically grateful. "Yes." 

Remus could almost feel his heart do jumping jacks in his stomach. It was too much. He cleared his throat a final time. "Right. Well, get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning." He retreated to his bedroom and shut the door quickly, knowing he could not bear to hear Sirius thank him solemnly another time. 

After that initial, horrible discomfort, things gradually improved. When Remus opened his bedroom door the next morning, it was to find Padfoot curled up across the threshold. He woke immediately at the sound of the doorknob, though, and with a sheepish expression, like a dog who knows it has erred, he slunk into the guest bedroom, tail between his legs. 

The next night, Remus left his door ajar, and in easy stages, Padfoot moved closer each night. A little over a week after arriving, he was in the bed with Remus, still in dog form, but a comforting warmth and weight against him. 

It was really the first full moon that turned the tide. Over the years, Remus's parents had transformed a small portion of the wood that surrounded Aethenum Park into a haven for their werewolf son. The woods were warded to keep him in, and charmed to keep everyone else out. Remus himself reinforced the spells at the wane of every moon when he was home, just to make sure the spells were strengthened regularly. Even when he didn't have access to Wolfsbane Potion, he could run safely in this heavily protected forest. On a Blue Moon at the end of July, Padfoot ran with Moony again. 

The next day marked the first occasion Sirius remained in human form for an entire day. As his transformations drained him physically and mentally, Remus lay weakly in bed, sleeping most of the day. Sirius took charge. Though still healing his own wounds, he was always more responsible when he felt needed. Moony needed him that day. He even cooked - a simple affair of opening a tin and boiling some soup, but still, it gave him confidence. He was able to nurture, for once, to prove that he was capable of taking care of someone. His Moony. 

It was shortly afterward, though, that the dreams began in earnest. 

The first thing Remus became aware of was the smell. The sharp tang of urine cut into his dream, but it happened that the smell fit in an odd way. As a werewolf, the smell of urine never bothered Remus - in a strange way, it was comforting. He slept on as the warm wetness spread across the bed. Then he received a blow to his body, and that annoyed him, so he growled in his sleep. Next rapid kicks battered his shins, and a scream ripped through his dream. It was a shriek of terror and pain, and it came from Sirius. Remus woke instantly. 

Awake, he realised that the bed was indeed wet, wet with urine and sweat and blood - Sirius's blood - and the bedclothes tangled. Long scratches welled along Sirius's arms. His lip was bleeding. He must have bit it to keep from screaming, but eventually lost that battle. Remus assessed all this while subjected to a flurry of kicks and punches, Sirius's fists hammering outward onto the next closest person. His eyes were shut tight against whatever storm he perceived in his dream. 

"Sirius!" Remus called to him without thinking, concerned only with halting the onslaught. "Sirius, wake up! Sirius, it's a dream. It's just a dream." He seized the man's arms and hugged them tight, shaking him awake. "Sirius, shhh…. Wake up, now, it's a nightmare. It's all right." 

Sirius screamed again, tearing himself away from Remus's strong grip, sitting straight up in the big bed from the force of his terror. His eyes flew open and he drew ragged breaths, clearly tormented by whatever it was that finally woke him. He couldn't catch his breath; he began to hyperventilate until, leaning over the side of the bed, he vomited. 

Remus caught Sirius's forehead just in time to brace him against the violent retching. He pulled himself to his knees to get a better grip, noting distantly how soaked Sirius was in sweat and how wet the sheets were. He cursed himself for not waking sooner to help his friend. 

"Oh, gods…" Sirius moaned. "Oh, Moony…." Sirius choked and coughed, sputtering apologies as he saw the damage he'd done. Along Sirius's side, the sheets were torn from his attempts to scratch at his nightmarish attackers. He sat in a puddle of his own piss, blood, sweat, and tears. The metallic, sickly-sweet smell of his vomit assaulted his nose. He had woken Moony and disrupted everything. He began to sob, ashamed of himself, and more concerned than ever that Moony would hate him. 

"Shh, it's all right," Remus said calmly. Sirius was like a child in his dejection, his fear, his embarrassment. "Nothing we can't take care of, puppy." Remus stood up on his side, picking up his wand from the bedside table. He came around the bed - the king-sized, elegant four-posted canopy from his parents' master suite at the Park - and cleaned up the emesis with a quick spell. Then he held out his arms to Sirius, who came into their circle weakly. "Come on, let's clean you up," he said soothingly. 

Sirius felt his wet pyjamas cling to his legs and began to tug at them. Remus knelt before him and untied the drawstring, pulling them down and lifting Sirius's legs out. Sirius seemed unaware of his nakedness, simply relieved to be free of the restricting garment. 

"Come on, love. Down to the bath…." With a constant, comforting manner, Remus escorted his charge down to the bathroom, where he stripped his own pyjama bottoms and put them in the hamper after sitting Sirius down on the toilet and turning on the taps for the bath. He filled a glass of water and instructed Sirius to sip it slowly. Then he opened the medicine cabinet - practically empty until a few weeks ago, when he began picking up various potions and remedies for Sirius to use - and efficiently gathered his supplies. Between potions and wand he healed the long cuts on Sirius's forearms while the bath filled. All the while, Sirius whimpered uneasily, and Remus soothed him. 

He bathed Sirius first, then washed himself quickly. By the end of the bath, Sirius seemed to calm down quite a bit, too much, in fact. He sat deadly silent, almost catatonic, barely responding when Remus said little things to him. 

"I have to fix the bed, Sirius," Remus said matter-of-factly. "Can we go upstairs, do you think, and will you be all right in the other room for a minute while I make up the bed fresh for us?" 

Sirius nodded dully. He responded to Remus's gentle direction, out of the bath and straight up the stairs. Remus sat him carefully on the guest room bed and kissed him lightly on the forehead. "You sit here quietly. I'll be right back." With a last, concerned appraisal of his packmate, the wizard left the room. 

He stripped the bed tidily, used his wand to dry and repair the mattress, and pulled out new sheets and coverlet. He was just tucking the fitted sheet around the mattress when the door swung open and a large black dog shuffled in, tail down, eyes pleading. He sat on his haunches and waited patiently while Remus made the bed. 

"Come on, love," Remus said with a sigh. Padfoot wagged his tail once, expectantly, and jumped onto the huge bed. He laid down, yawning widely, and rested his head on his paws. Remus could feel Padfoot watch him as he came around the bed, not bothering with a fresh pair of pyjamas for himself, and climbed in beside the giant dog. Padfoot rolled over against him immediately, resting a large paw on his chest. "Yes, puppy. I'm here. It's all right," He said, feeling weary and heart-sore, but comforted as much by Padfoot's reliance on him as Padfoot was by his presence. He turned to face the huge dog, who licked his face once before settling. They fell asleep quickly after that, breathing each other's scents until long into the next morning. 

Sirius had similar dreams every few days, though the number and intensity slowly diminished. Nevertheless, it was a clear sign to Remus that Azkaban still permeated his subconscious, preventing him from moving on. They never really spoke of them, though, except in the most abstract sense. After the first few incidents, Sirius's assaults shifted from himself to Remus, but Sirius woke believing that he had passed a dreamless night. Remus knew, somehow, that the dreams were part of a process for Sirius, and eventually he simply held him, allowing the man to buffet and bite and scratch him instead of himself. He healed by morning, and Sirius woke with no recollection of trouble in the night. 

Without him there, Remus knew, Sirius would hurt himself instead. He protected and comforted Sirius throughout, just as Sirius's presence alone comforted Remus. When they finally began to explore more intimate relations, Remus privately rejoiced. But it was the contact, the casual, familiar contact, that he valued even more than the sex. He missed his lover terribly. 

* * *

Snuffles Lupin   
Owl Nook   
Somerset, GB 

24 September, 1995 

Dear Padfoot, 

It feels like ages since I've written. But school as you know is a routine of grading and class preparation, at least for an old-fashioned teacher like me. (Yes, I get to hear that I am extremely traditional, according to my students.) 

Let's see: I haven't even told you much about this place, have I? Well, I know you have more important things on your mind, but maybe this will distract you a bit. So, it's more like a campus of buildings than a single castle like Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, or Durmstrang. I taught for a bit in the American south, at DuPresque, back… before, and it's more like that. Only there it's far enough south that they don't need enclosed walkways between the buildings. There's a central building for classes, that's where our offices are as well; a dining hall; even more greenhouses than Madam Sprout has, owing to the climate here; quite a respectable library; six student dormitories, each one with an adjacent house for the professors, a few other houses for the staff scattered about; the care of magical creatures building (yes, an entire building!), and of course the pitch. No, I don't have to stay in one of the dormitory houses - I think they did that on purpose, though. 

The first thing I noticed when I was exploring my little bungalow is that it has quite a stout cellar. I think that must have been there from the beginning, but they lined the inside of the cellar door with iron, and fitted an iron bar across it. I suppose it's a precaution in case the Wolfsbane Potion shouldn't work. Wise, I guess, and sadly, I can't say I blame them. But it's across the campus from the dormitories, so it's quiet in the evenings. I think there may actually be a _Serenitis _ward around the place, but I haven't bothered to check. If there is, it's not helping me sleep any better. But at least I stay on top of my lessons and grading while I'm up. Actually, it's quite comfortable: I've got as much room here as the cottage, I daresay. More, as it's not so cluttered. 

You'd be interested in the Quidditch here, pet. Quodpot and Quidditch both have leagues, but the latest thing here is a variation I've never seen before. Instead of passing the quaffle by hand, they catch and throw it using large nets on hand-held sticks. One of the Seniors tells me that it started a few years ago, because a Muggle-born student brought something called a lacrosse stick to school. He broke it in half, my student explained, so he could use it one-handed while on a broom. Apparently, the other students emulated him, and they get up unofficial games on week-ends. I can see why they like the challenge - passes miss more frequently, so the game moves a lot differently - but it always seemed to me Quidditch was quite exciting enough. 

Speaking of Quidditch, have you heard from Harry? I wish I'd seen him play more while I was there. He does have to watch his circles to the right, though: he always had a little wobble that opened his turns up. All right, I know. I was never much of a flyer, not like certain roommates of mine, but you must admit, I did all right at observation. I don't suppose there will be much time for it soon, though, with his OWLS and NEWTS. Make sure he studies, Sirius, I mean it. He can't breeze through them like you did. 

One more thing on Quidditch: I'm sure Albus would like to know, next time you see him, that the Haileybury Hammers are sending a team representative to inspect our Varsity (that's the upperclassmen's league) next month. It might be a good opportunity to assess England's chances against them this season. 

I'm enclosing a playdisc for the soundbox for you. I can't say I went out and sought it, but when I heard it, I knew you'd like it. The honest truth of the matter is, I confiscated an identical playdisc and a portable box from a student. Imagine, students listening to music in one of my classes! Yes, puppy, I know, I can hear you now: I have crossed over to the side of…the teachers. I must turn in my Marauders badge and membership card, go directly to the staffroom, and suffer the ignominious fate of all my kind: to live forever with chalk stains on my robes and cramp from holding a quill long hours while grading. 

It's a lot easier, in some ways, though, being a teacher at another school. Much as I enjoyed working alongside Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall, and all our old teachers, it felt distinctly strange the whole time. Of course, not even Harry could put much over on me, knowing the place as well as I did. I'm sure some of my students here think one good hex would finish me off, but we know better, don't we, Padfoot? 

Where was I? Oh, yes, the playdisc. Well, I took it away and assigned the errant boy some extra work, but after class I took the liberty of looking at what I'd confiscated. And once I listened, well, I knew you had to hear this. They sound a lot like the old doo-wop groups of the 50's and 60's (the Warlocks come to mind, but so do the Platters), fused with something Hag and the Haggis might come up with. Anyway, they're from Toronto, so they're rather an important band around these parts. Look at number seven - tell me that's not Lily and James. How many times did he ring us up because Lily just wanted to stay in with a good book? 

My, I've rambled on quite a bit, haven't I? It's hard, having to save up everything I have to say. But unspeakably better, just to know that I have someplace to send it to. I hope you're feeling better, love. That last letter worried me a bit. I know Dumbledore had his reasons, but I only took this position because of what you said. Just promise me that the minute you think I'll do more good there than here, you'll tell me? I'll be on the first transport home, you know that. 

Full moon in a few days. My first since arriving. I can't decide whether I'd rather put a rug down in that cellar and make myself as comfortable as possible or put my faith in Claire's potions work and curl up in bed. Cellar, I suppose. Someone might look in the window otherwise, even if it is the upper floor. Better safe than sorry, as they say. 

I miss you, Sirius. It's simply astonishing how quickly one can get used to old habits again. I slept alone for so many years, but now after only a few months, I keep reaching over at night, expecting to find you. My packmate. My gorgeous Padfoot. Work is about the only thing that keeps me focused. Hurry up and get those bastards put away, will you, so we can get on with our own business. I shouldn't be selfish, but I want to know: do you think you'll find a way to visit soon? I need you, too, puppy-dog. So it's my turn to snap out of it, I suppose. Blame it on the time of the month. 

I should send this off. Just ignore that last paragraph, will you? I'm all right, just getting old and morose before my time. 

Your 

M 

* * *

**TBC...**


	3. Tangled Inside You

**Between the Lines**

**Author:**Beasties-Boys  
**Author email:** Beasties-Boys@fictionalley.org  
**Category:** General, Drama, Angst, Romance  
**House:** Schnoogle  
**Chapter:** 3/?  
**Keywords: **Sirius, Remus, letters, Year 5, slash  
**Spoilers:** All the books (so far)   
**Rating:** R  
**Pairing:** Sirius Black/Remus Lupin; Percy/Oliver implied; Harry/Ron implied.   
**Summary:** In a story that parallels the timing of "In this World of Strangers" and "Take the Chance," Remus accepts a one-year job in Canada while Sirius is left to play courier for Dumbledore. Will their separation after so little time together strengthen them or drive them further apart?   
  
**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. While the authors firmly believe the pairing is plausible, desirable, and just right, we also acknowledge the unlikelihood of anything like it ever happening in the books. So enjoy it here, at any rate.  
  
** Authors Notes:** Ajes Blue here. I apologise. I've been the one holding this up (although Gwen's been just as insanely busy...). I can guarantee the next couple of chapters will not take several months to appear. Real Life hasn't calmed down, much, but I set a deadline, and even though we couldn't exactly nail it on the deadline, this is still damn close. This is a collaboration between two fanfiction authors; Gwendolyn Grace and Ajes Blue. 

* * *

**Chapter Three - Tangled Inside You**

** Paths of Desire   
October Project**  
  
_ I have traveled the paths of desire  
Gathering flowers and carrying fire  
Raising a grave to the reasons behind me  
Looking for strength as you live to remind me  
I am drawn to you  
I am caught in you  
  
I am the fly who dreams of the spider  
The path to the web becomes deeper and wider  
I dream of the silk that is tangled inside you  
And know that I want to be somewhere beside you  
I'm drawn to you  
I'm caught in you  
  
In your eyes all of the promises,  
All the lies  
Will you keep all of the promises  
In your eyes?  
  
I am crossing the bridges of sorrow  
Empty with yearning and full of tomorrow  
The river is high and the bridges are burning  
I know I've been hurt but I keep on returning  
I'm drawn to you  
I'm caught in you  
  
In your eyes, all of the promises,  
All the lies  
Will you keep all of the promises  
In your eyes?  
  
I have traveled the paths of desire  
Following smoke and remembering fire  
The night is falling, the path is receding,  
I don't need to see it to know where it's leading  
  
In your eyes, all of the promises,  
All the lies.  
Will you keep all of the promises  
In your eyes?_

* * *

Professor Remus J. Lupin,   
Commonwealth Academy of Magic  
Manitoba, Canada  
  
4 October, 1995  


My dearest R, 

Happy Birthday, love. I am thinking of you today. I had thought when we renewed our relationship that I would be with you today. We really only had one birthday together before everything fell apart. Those last six weeks before James… I don't think I will go there. 

I have this fantasy… But enough. Perhaps I am not in the proper frame of mind for this. I shall try again later. I will say only this: You are my heart, my life, my wolf. 

(Later- 7 October) 

I am hiding out near Hogsmeade. Hedwig found me here with your letter. I shan't go "off on a tirade," love. I learned that lesson all too well. I don't recall all I wrote in my last post to you, but I do recall I was in a temper when I wrote it. I am meeting with Dumbledore in a bit. He's kept me close for two weeks, now. I've only managed to catch glimpses of Harry while the team practices. He's a natural flyer, our Harry. If anything, he looks more at home on a broomstick than he does on the ground. He would be able to fly rings around me on my best day. He'd give even James a run for his money, I think. I long to be a family with him- and you. I am so glad you let me tell him about us last summer. He didn't seem at all surprised. You'd know better, love, is he always so self-contained? It worries me. I know he has good friends, and a lot of Lily's natural reserve, but I wish he'd be a little more forthcoming. Especially when things bother him. About his studies, I have no worries our Miss Granger is keeping after him on that front. His letters are peppered with references to her badgering them into extra revision sessions. Who am I to be giving out revising advice, anyway? That was more your place, love. I was always good at getting us into trouble. 

I'd best go keep my meeting. I'll write more when I've got a few moments. One last thought before I stop- I know why you did it, and you should be pleased that it worked, but if you ever call me 'Muffin' I shan't speak to you ever again. Call me puppy, pet, love, sweet- hell, Moony, you can even call me Rover- but pet names having to do with food are definitely out! 

Later- 

Moony! I saw Harry! Dumbledore met me at Hagrid's and took me to his office. He was there waiting for us! Oh, my sweet - it was the best thing for this lonely old heart. I held him in my arms. Only for a moment, but he was here. In the circle of my arms. What a gift that was. I find myself holding on tightly to the gifts in my life. I am so thankful I can count you among them, love. 

Listen to me! Going on and on about such silly things. I've been rereading this and I think I must stop before I embarrass myself more. 

Much later- (14 October, 1995) 

R, 

I still haven't sent this. I know, I know, but I've been busy. And I haven't found an owl I trust, so I may have to wait until Hedwig shows up again. It's not like I can go to the Post and just pick one out. Being wanted and all. I stopped by the Nook and found your latest letter. Mrs. Harkness is doing a bang up job taking care of the place. The "see no magic" charm you placed on the perimeter is still working like- well, a charm. I know, I can hear you groaning now, that was a terrible not-pun. 

Reading through your last letter- I like the description of the Academy. Although it hurts me to think that you'll be in a cellar… make that *were* in a cellar. The first full moon since you've been gone from me. I *knew* I would hate being apart from you during the full moon, and I do. I hate it more than anything. Damn it. We're supposed to run together under the stars, love. 

The playdisc. Thank you. You always know what will be just right- what I need the most. I think I missed music the most next to you while I was away. Twelve years of no music. That was one of the hardest things to get used to. The quiet that comes with no melody, no timpani, no perfect mesh of emotion and sentiment. It was difficult to get used to rhythms again. I mean besides the rhythm of my own heartbeat. I'd curl up on the pallet in my cell and listen to the thump, thump, thump of my heart, and the sense memory of a pounding bass line would find me sometimes. Mainly when I was Padfoot- for that was when the Dementors would leave me alone the most. When I escaped… The first weeks- I shied away from anything that sparked memories of music. I'd remember dancing. Moving with you in my arms. It is still difficult sometimes, but it gets easier, a little, every day. 

And yes, I know you have "crossed over" to the side of the teachers! Do you have any students worthy of being called marauders? Have you made a map, yet? I think I remember the charms we used… Perhaps when I see you we should do a bit of drafting, what do you say? Never say you'd turn in the badge, Moony. Remember you are a Marauder forever. Isn't that what we vowed? Magical mischief makers until the very end? And while our mischief is on a bit more serious scale than it was in our Hogwarts days, we'll still give the Dark Arts hell, won't we? For Prongs? 

And yes, we'll be sure to call you home if you're needed. I'm off again for Dumbledore. I shall try to time my mission so I can see you. I *want* you to catalogue my new scars- that sounds rather delightful, albeit in a morbid way. I've healed up rather nicely, by the way. Hopefully I will see you before the next full moon. If possible I will stay, and we will be able to run together that night. You say the mountains are near enough to Apparate to? I know your heart is big enough- but is your hearth for one rather worn out dog star? 

I best close this letter now, or I shall continue it until I arrive, hungry, wet, and cold on your doorstep. 

Soon, my love, we'll howl together under the clear Canadian sky. I long to be a pack with you again. 

Your Padfoot 

Postscript: Ah, here is Hedwig now, bearing gifts from our young friends. I will trust this into her keeping. 

* * *

Sirius untied Harry's note from Hedwig's leg and invited her to drink a bit of water while he read it. He sat on the ground in the garden, barely noticing as the owl scratched at the earth nearby. Harry was doing well, from the sound of things. It was just possible, Sirius hoped, that Harry might even be able to get up the courage to go on a date this year, if nothing else distracted him. His letter as usual was full of Quidditch, classes (doing well in DADA, Charms, and Care of Magical Creatures with Hagrid; Divination was a joke to him and Ron; and Potions, with Snape, was as always a trial), and hopes that Sirius and Remus were both well. Given the years he'd had at Hogwarts already, a term without anyone plotting his death seemed like a miracle. 

Sirius had barely begun to enjoy his southern vacation when Harry alerted him to possible problems last year. As he sat in the sun, reading the boy's overall mundane note, he was reminded of the communication between them then; his godson's need for protection, and his own long year spent in hiding nearby. That of course, had led inexorably to Voldemort's return, something they should have seen coming, Sirius admonished himself, though how exactly they could have known, he didn't think to examine. And upon that night in June, when Harry faced his worst enemy and lived through an ordeal even Sirius could only imagine, on that night Dumbledore had effectively ordered Sirius to go to Remus for help. 

Had the headmaster known what he was doing? Sirius and Remus had only been a couple for eighteen months when Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow on Halloween, 1981. Could Dumbledore have known then, or found out later, that Sirius had been romantically involved with his werewolf classmate? Did he realise, even after all that time, that they needed to be together again? 

Sirius wouldn't have put it past the greatest wizard of the twentieth century to push them back together and hope for the best. It was just the sort of romantic thing Dumbledore professed to like in novels and operettas. Certainly, the old wizard's first visit to Owl Nook, as Remus explained it, suggested that Dumbledore suspected at the least. Sirius gazed out over the garden, thinking about that summer, and how Remus helped him begin to heal. It had all started, he recalled clearly, with a simple game of fetch. Remus made a crack that first night about needing a watchdog, so in his first weeks at Owl Nook, Sirius used to oblige while Remus gardened. 

He watched Remus in dog form, keeping an eye out for pixies, gnomes, and the occasional rabbit. Every once in a while Remus looked up from his weeding to reassure himself the big black dog was still there. Sometimes Padfoot was watching him intently, head on his forepaws, and at other times he was gazing off into the distance, head raised, panting and sniffing the air. Sirius had been home for nearly two weeks, and slowly they'd been getting used to each other again. 

In fact, Sirius spent most of his time watching Remus. His eyes followed Moony obsessively. He couldn't stop it, didn't want to stop it. He had spent a lot of the last two years avoiding people, only corresponding with Harry or Dumbledore. He had not contacted Remus at all, unable to bring himself to ask the questions that lurked in his heart. [Do you still love me? Do you still want me? Can you ever really forgive me?] 

The questions remained unasked, and unanswered. Mentally and emotionally, Sirius knew, he was a complete mess. He put on a strong front for Harry. He was capable enough for Dumbledore's purposes, but when it came to anything he felt remotely vulnerable about, he shut down. The bigger the vulnerability, the faster he retreated, sometimes all the way to Padfoot if he couldn't stop himself in time. 

The first time Remus laid his hand on Sirius's back when he wasn't expecting it, both had been shocked at the instantaneous reaction. Sirius had whirled around, eyes ablaze with fear and fury, and then he'd transformed, hackles raised, backing himself into a corner growling. Remus had immediately knelt, but did nothing else until Padfoot made overtures several minutes later, trembling, confused, and embarrassed. 

But that day, when Remus paused in his gardening to stretch his back and clapped his hands together to brush off the worst of the dirt, Padfoot was immediately on his feet, intelligent sparkle shining in his eyes. He let go of the worst fears, in this form. He wanted to play. 

"Feeling good, are you?" Remus asked quietly. 

Padfoot wagged his tail and whined a little, deep in his throat. Remus reached out and stroked the dog's big black warm head, scratching him a little behind the ears. 

"Well, you're a good puppy. What do you want to do?" Remus chuckled a little to himself at the excited way Padfoot laid a half chewed stick at his feet and stared at him, expectantly. 

"So. Shall I throw this, then?" At Padfoot's small yip he bent and picked up the stick. In the old days, Padfoot would be barking his fool head off until the stick was airborne. Remus hated some of the changes in his friend even as he accepted them as inevitable. 

"Go get it, boy!" He called as he tossed the stick. The repeated rhythm of throw, run, retrieve felt natural after the first couple of repetitions, and Remus enjoyed the way Padfoot still moved with an easy grace. This man, this wizard had been his lover, and if all went well, would be again. Remus loved him whatever skin he wore. 

All too soon Padfoot was tired, and dropped the stick one last time. Panting, and tail held low, he moved toward the house. Remus followed and let them both into the kitchen. Padfoot went straight for the sitting room to lie down on the rug before the fireplace. Remus paused only to scrub the dirt from his hands before joining him at the hearth. He lit the fire that was laid there and patted the dog on the head. Padfoot rolled over, his head nestled in Remus's lap. Using long, calming strokes Remus rubbed his hands down Padfoot's body. His hands lazily pet Padfoot's neck and belly. They sat there for a long time, the dog's eyes half-closed in pleasure. After nearly an hour of rhythmic, hypnotic petting, Padfoot transformed, and Sirius was lying under Remus's hands. Not wanting to startle Sirius, Remus continued the calm strokes, noticing that for the first time since he'd come home, Sirius was aroused. 

"Magic." Sirius whispered, drowsily. Remus was a little startled, and he wasn't sure he'd heard correctly. Then with trembling hands, Sirius caught his hand mid-stroke, kissed the palm quickly, stood, and left the room. 

In just two short days, it became habit. Remus would putter about in his garden and yard while Padfoot watched from a sunny patch of grass. Whenever Remus decided he had done enough for the day, he'd stand up and brush off his hands, and Padfoot would be instantly alert, on his feet, stick in mouth, tail wagging. 

Remus would then play "fetch" with Padfoot, until his Animagus friend tired. Then they'd go inside, Remus would wash his hands, and they'd sit together in front of the fire. Padfoot would end up with his head in Remus's lap with Remus's hands gently patting soothing strokes down his body. They'd sit there until Padfoot transformed. Sirius would inevitably be aroused, but he made no mention of it and Remus did not push. He would sit there and stroke Sirius's skin and hair for as long as Sirius would allow it. Remus would let his hands wander, skimming lightly over face and neck, down Sirius's shoulder, along his side. Or he'd stroke tenderly down his chest tracing his ribs to pat the fine, soft, black hairs on his belly. It was soothing for both, and it was reminiscent of times long past. 

For Sirius, this time was like a dream. It was a good dream, not the half remembered nightmares and the darkness that lurked in his mind. For so long his body was not his own. For so long he couldn't control his reactions, had no say over what happened to him or when. For so long he'd had only one choice- live or die. He'd chosen to live. He'd been conditioned to react instinctively, and was trying now to learn how to be human again. Sirius was horrified the first time he'd followed his instincts and turned on Remus. When he came back to himself he was ashamed that he'd snarled and growled at Moony. 

When he slept, it was the same: his body's reactions were beyond his control. While he was traveling, he slept as Padfoot, wary of anything that moved in the darkness beyond his hiding place. The nightmares didn't find him as often in this form. It was only when he slept as himself that the nightmares came. They left violence and pain in their wake. He'd had a safe place, the summer before, where he could let the nightmares find him. He'd wake, trembling, covered with sweat and tears and urine and blood. It was frightening, his body not his to control. He couldn't do anything but accept them, acknowledge them. Let them and the other events of this past year play over and over again in his mind. Some part of him knew that he needed the dreams. Needed to purge the horror of the last thirteen years of his life. Then he'd come back to England when Harry needed him. It was a long year for him. Long and stressful. He spent most of his time as Padfoot, scrounging for food, stealing papers to keep up with the news. Harry and his friends sent him food every once in a while, but they couldn't do it often in case their owl was followed. 

After the horrific events of the Triwizard Tournament, Dumbledore ordered him to "lay low" with Remus. He wouldn't have come otherwise, but the order, however gently given, was still an order. So he came, ready to be turned away, unsure of his welcome. Instead Remus had taken him in and cared for him. It was awkward, at first. It was still awkward sometimes. But it got better. Every day, Sirius got a little better, and could cope with a little more. 

He worried that Remus was offended when, that first morning, he found Padfoot curled up outside his door. But instead, Remus started leaving his bedroom door open at night, and each day when he awoke, Padfoot was closer to him. Now sleeping on the threshold, now inside the door, now on top of Remus's slippers. Sirius knew he probably shouldn't, but couldn't help it. He craved the closeness, the scent. On the morning after Padfoot ventured onto the bed, settling his warm weight beside Remus, Remus woke with a soft prayer of thanks, which Padfoot heard in his sleep despite Remus's almost silent whisper. That was the first morning Sirius felt comfortable enough to transform while still in Remus's presence instead of slinking off to the guest room. It was a small victory, but each step forward was a milestone for Sirius. He'd been alone and on edge for so long, it was an obvious effort for him to talk sometimes. 

The first time Remus asked him what he wanted in his eggs, he froze. He couldn't think of a thing to say. So he said, "Anything." Remus suggested onions, knowing Sirius hated onions, and Sirius didn't complain. Then Remus got mad, but Sirius could tell he wasn't really mad. It became a joke to them. A comfortable exchange. "What do you want in your eggs?" "Not onions." And they'd smile, and maybe chuckle a little. Comfortable. Something to fill in the spaces. Something *normal.* Something expected. Something a little… fun. 

Then one day, he had prodded Remus into throwing a stick for him to fetch. He let the memory cycle again, relishing the feelings it brought. It wasn't something he planned on. He just felt so good lying in the sun that he let go of all the worries that made him Sirius and contented himself with being a dog for a little while. The game tired him out, and he wanted nothing more then to lie down in front of the fire. To his joy, Remus joined him. Patted him. Soothed him. And for the first time in fourteen years someone touched his body with gentleness and caring. He transformed then, and the hands didn't go away. He was very near tears when he finally had to retreat. It felt so good, and he knew Moony would have noticed his erection in his jeans; could smell his arousal easily. But Remus hadn't said anything, and so neither did Sirius. It was the first time he'd been aroused in years, and it felt so damn *good*, but Sirius was afraid that if he acknowledged it, Remus wouldn't want to touch him anymore. And then the next day they did it all over again. And the next. It felt so wonderful, and while he knew it probably was incredibly manipulative and needy, he wanted it, he wanted Remus, but he wouldn't go any further, he wouldn't cross that line. 

And so, they kept on, and Sirius kept feeling good, and his body responded to pleasure instead of fear. It was strange, and at the same time familiar. Remus's hands on him recalled other times, happier times, when they were together and James and Lily were alive (and Peter was a trusted friend). His body tightened involuntarily at the thoughts that rose unbidden, and he worked on consciously relaxing back into memory. 

So there they were, a week after the first game of fetch, Remus weeding or watering or doing *something* to the plants in the garden, and Sirius, who had started his sunbath as a bare-chested man, was now sniffing about the yard as a dog, content to sit in the sun, follow bugs through the grass with his nose, lying now with his paws in the air, now wiggling around, scratching his back deliciously against the rough ground. When Remus was finished, Padfoot would get to play. 

Padfoot had just retrieved the stick for the third time, Remus calling out encouragement, when he was startled by a low chuckle behind him. Whirling about, he came face to face with Albus Dumbledore. Remus blushed before he could think, embarrassed that Albus had caught them playing like children, and then reconsidered, knowing Albus would understand. 

"Albus. I… We weren't expecting you." Remus crossed to where the older wizard stood. 

Sirius had stopped halfway through his lope back to Remus and transformed, surprised, stick still firmly clenched in his teeth. Spitting it out, and wiping his mouth, he stared at them for a few moments, an odd expression on his face- equal parts dismay, resignation, and acceptance- before taking a deep breath and joining them. He knew Remus could tell he was embarrassed, but he still tried to hide it. 

"I had a moment, and was in the area. I didn't mean to interrupt your game." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily, pleased at what he saw. Sirius looked healthier, more rested, less haunted. Yes, sending Sirius here had been the best thing for him, *and* for Remus. Albus knew that Sirius had spent the last two years doing what was necessary to survive. He hadn't really spent the time he needed to heal the way he ought, but that couldn't be helped. At the time, keeping him alive was more important. If things had worked out differently, if Sirius had been cleared of his wrongful conviction and imprisonment, he would have had all the time he needed working with the therapists at St. Mungos. As it was, the best Albus could do was send him where he was wanted most; the first chance he got, he did. 

"Please, come in. Would you like some tea?" Remus tried to pull the attention off Sirius, knowing that he'd be longing to retreat, and only Albus' presence kept him there, standing a little bit apart from them. Sirius lingered back a bit before following them into the kitchen. 

Settled at the table, Albus watched as Remus moved about the kitchen with ease, putting on the teakettle, taking down the pot and cups, retrieving tea leaves, sweetener, and lemon. Throughout all this, Sirius hovered near the doorway, glancing outside now and then as if he'd like to escape. 

Sirius really hoped Albus wasn't here to send him off on business for the Order. He was finally starting to feel safe. Finally starting to relax. Finally starting to think maybe Remus still wanted him as a friend, and maybe as a lover, too. Remus and Albus spoke of small things, normal things. Sirius let his attention drift. 

"Sirius… Sirius?" Remus was staring at him a little worriedly. It was then he realised Remus had been trying to get his attention for several moments. "Are you all right?" 

Sirius swayed forward a little, drawn in by the obvious concern and caring he saw in Remus's eyes. Then his gaze shuttered and he stepped back, removing himself physically and emotionally. Turning quickly, he left the house casting one apologetic glance over his shoulder at Remus before transforming and taking off at a dead run away from the cottage. Remus sighed and turned back to Albus, who had watched it all without speaking. 

"I'm sorry. He's… I'm sorry." 

"It's all right, Remus. Perhaps I shouldn't have come quite yet. Part of why I came was to see him with my own eyes. You're doing a marvelous job with him, you know." 

"Thank you." Remus said as he poured the tea and served it. They sat for a moment before Remus began talking, telling Albus all his worries regarding his houseguest. There were flashes of the 'old' Sirius, he explained. Flashes that convinced Remus that his friend and lover was still there, buried deeply behind the mental and emotional barriers he'd erected to survive Azkaban. *Twelve years.* Nobody survived in the wizard prison for that long without losing his mind. It was a testament to Sirius's inner strength. To his spirit, that he could survive and function, but Remus suspected they had a very long way to go. 

"I'm so afraid I'll push him too hard, but it worries me that he won't talk about it. About anything. I know he's not used to talking, and not used to touching, and not used to staying human… I don't know what I'm doing." He finally admitted the fear that, perhaps, he was doing his friend more harm than good. 

"Remus, look at me. You know a lot of this Sirius has to do on his own. I can't even begin to understand what he's been through. No one can, there hasn't ever been anyone who has survived what he has. No one knows what twelve years in constant close proximity to Dementors will do to a wizard, Animagus or no. That he is still capable of *play* shows me that he is stronger than I realised. Keep doing what you're doing. I may be able to arrange for him to see Harry later this summer. Every time they see each other it does them both a world of good." Albus leaned back, the smile coming back into his eyes. "Now. I have some business to talk about with you, Remus." 

Several hours after Albus left, Sirius had still not come home. Remus was starting to worry when the door opened quietly, and shut. Remus listened as Sirius slowly made his way up the stairs, the heaviness of his tread bespeaking his exhaustion, and went into the room Remus had settled him into that first night. 

A few minutes passed before Remus followed, afraid of what he'd find. He peeked in and saw Sirius stretched out on the guest bed, still wearing his jeans and nothing else. His arm was thrown over his eyes, and tension was obvious in every line of his body. 

"Sirius? Pup?" Remus approached the bed carefully. 

"I'm sorry." Sirius's voice was thick with the tears he tried to hold back. 

"For what, love?" Remus sat slowly on the side of the bed, getting Sirius used to the weight beside him. He didn't know how far this setback went. Or what guise this one would take. 

"For… running out. I… I didn't want … I didn't mean…" 

"Shhh. None of that. I know. Albus merely came to see how you were doing." 

"That's all? You're sure?" The relief was pathetically obvious in Sirius's voice. 

Remus sighed. Yes, they had a long way to go. "Well, he also came to talk to me." He admitted reluctantly. "But it's nothing bad. And we can talk about it tomorrow. Now. Are you hungry?" 

Sirius shook his head, mouthing the word "No." 

"Then, why don't you come to bed?" Remus laid a tentative hand on Sirius's stomach, tracing gentle circles on his warm skin. Sirius tensed a moment, before relaxing, taut body going pliant beneath Remus's fingers. 

"I was so scared, Moony. I was so scared he came to tell me I had to leave. Don't make me go. Please Moony, don't make me go." Sirius was whimpering then, as he curled in to Remus, as small as possible, his hands grasping at Remus's waist. Soon, the werewolf held the shaking body of his one-time lover in his lap. 

Disturbed at this newest development, Remus fought to calm Sirius. At the same time, he was pleased Sirius had articulated the fears to him, *and* he hadn't retreated into dog form. This was something he'd include in his next progress report to Albus. Carefully he coaxed Sirius across the hall and into bed, and then settled in beside him. Hours later, he woke with Padfoot's head resting on his belly. Stroking the soft fur of Padfoot's head, Remus went back to sleep. 

The next morning Sirius sat drinking coffee in the sunny kitchen after their breakfast together as Remus gazed at him steadily. Sensing the signs of the conversation Remus had put off the night before Sirius braced himself for whatever was to come. 

"When we… fought, that last time, I came here to get away," Remus told him. Sirius almost interrupted, but Remus raised a hand to forestall him. He had spent some time the night before, waiting for Padfoot to come home, thinking up exactly what he was going to say. "I couldn't stand by and watch you throw everything away, but I knew I couldn't stop you, either. So I left. By the time I was ready to find out what happened… it was all over. And all I had left was the confusion… the guilt of not taking a stand." 

Sirius stared at Remus uncomprehendingly for a moment. His mouth worked as he groped for something to say. When he found words, they were weak. "I'm sorry." 

"No, I understand it, now. But I learned a valuable lesson, Sirius." 

"Lesson?" 

Remus nodded. "That this conflict really does involve every one of us, even if we're not on the front lines. That win or lose, to act is better than not to act." 

"Mmm-hmm." Sirius nodded a little, not understanding where this revelation of Remus's was going. 

Remus sighed. "Albus wasn't here to see you, Sirius." Sirius nodded again, Remus had said as much the night before. "At least, not directly. Though he was interested in how you're doing… but… he had a number of propositions to make." 

"What kind of propositions?" Sirius asked, warily. 

"Well… first, he's looking for some places to set up as safe houses for the Order… Places where wizards can convalesce, when things start to get rougher." 

"That's a good idea." Sirius's tone was noncommittal. He still wasn't sure where Remus was going with this. 

"Yes… he wanted me to think about whether I'd be willing to offer Owl Nook." 

"Offer…" Sirius paused, surprised. "Isn't it already? I mean with me…" He said with a self-depreciating smile. 

Remus smiled wryly, understanding Sirius's tone. "You're… a special case." 

"Oh?" Sirius sounded gratified. "I suppose I am at that… escapee that I am and all." His tone went slightly bitter at the last, and Remus took note and gentled his voice. 

"No, I mean, you could have come here sooner, before Dumbledore asked you to…" 

"Oh." Sirius studied his empty cup, unable to look up into Remus's face. 

Remus cleared his throat, covering the awkward moment. "Anyway, one wizard is different from many." 

"Many?" Sirius couldn't hide the surprise. 

"Potentially." 

"Owl Nook isn't that big, Remus." Sirius said with some confusion. 

"Actually, he's thinking of buying back the Park." 

"The Park?" Sirius echoed, feeling foolish and one step behind. "But…" 

"The Park." Remus cut him off. "The Nook would be the headquarters, but he wants to set up the Park as a miniature Mungo's." Remus paused. "But… only if we agree." 

"We?" Sirius's voice was sharper then he'd intended, but he was shocked that his opinion even entered into the picture. 

"Well… yes." Remus blinked a bit at the vehemence in Sirius's tone. "You live here, too." 

"I do?" 

Remus sighed tiredly, and offered a small, sad smile. "Yes." He paused before speaking, as if to a small child. "Sirius, this is your home as long as you wish it." 

"Home…" Sirius paused, his eyes shut with relief. "Thank you." 

"Yes. Home." Remus bit his lip. "Whether… whether I'm here or not." 

"Not here?" Sirius's body went suddenly quiet and still, his eyes unfocused. 

"Er… that was the second proposal Albus had. He's a bit concerned that either the Ministry or the Death Eaters will look for me, trying to find you… and I guess there is something else about needing to make contacts in other places…" Remus waved a hand as if this wasn't important and continued. "Anyway, he's had a letter from a colleague of his in Canada. Seems they need a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher this year and…" 

Sirius looked at him with alarm. "Canada!?!" 

"I haven't made any decision, yet. It's a one year appointment only--they have a teacher going out on sabbatical--if I decide to accept, I must tell them by the end of July. Harry's birthday." 

"But..." Sirius was upset, but he thought about the offer seriously for a moment. Slowly he said, "this is a really good chance for you, isn't it? Teaching again..." 

"Well, it could be. I don't know. The point is," Remus smiled gently at him, a little embarrassed. "I can't live off my savings much longer. And when that's gone...I only have so many bottles of wine from the estate in the cellar. Eventually, I'll have to stop selling them. But I'm not certain it's the right time to leave, despite the risk of contact. What do you think?" 

"I have the whole of my savings, but I can't get to it very easily... Eventually Dumbledore will have work for me to do, too- won't he?" Sirius checked Remus's reaction before continuing. "Although what I'll be doing won't have a salary attached, I'm sure." Sirius was quiet for a moment, torn between wanting to be unreasonable and immediately say 'no,' and seeing this as something really good for his friend. It was precisely because their relationship was so tenuous at the moment that Sirius realized he didn't really have a say in this decision at all. It wasn't as if he and Remus were even lovers. Hoping to stall, and trying to force away the black panic that he could feel waiting to engulf him he pled with Remus. "Can you think about it for a while? It's... rather sudden... I... I still can't..." 

Remus seemed to sense that facing this decision was too much for Sirius right now. "Yes, we have a little time. A couple weeks. But then we'd still have another month after that." 

Sirius smiled weakly at Remus. "A whole month..." 

"Yes..." Remus paused, groping for a new subject. "So... the moon will be full in three days." He smiled suddenly. "Did I ever tell you about trying to make the forest mine as a boy?" 

Grabbing gratefully at the change of subject, Sirius looked up with interest. "No." 

Remus laughed. "Well, you remember I was really young when I received the bite.... usually children that young don't even survive.... but of course the changes made things very difficult, even when I was just a cub. I guess I was about five...it was less than a year after being bitten... I would get up several times a night to.... mark my bedroom." He blushed as he related the tale. 

Sirius chuckled a little warily. "Your Mum must have loved that!" 

"She wasn't impressed, to say the least." Remus agreed with understatement. 

"I can just imagine!" Sirius's eyes held a faraway look, thinking on the uproar that would have caused. 

"Well, of course, my father carefully explained that those things were Not Done in the house.... so...." 

"The forest became 'yours'?" Sirius's face crinkled up in wary merriment at the mental images Remus planted. 

Remus smiled and nodded, liking that Sirius could anticipate the simple story so eagerly. "I would take very long expeditions around the forest--during the day, of course--and there were certain trees.... I didn't really break the habit until I came to Hogwarts." 

"The Forbidden Forest never became 'yours,' eh?" Sirius was enjoying this story, perhaps a little too much, a little too desperately. 

"Oh... I wouldn't say that... but then I started learning about wards and more normal methods of marking territory. And I couldn't very well go out during classes to explore." Remus said. "It was very tempting, though, our first night in Gryffindor Tower... I decided you'd all smell it and think I'd wet the bed." 

Sirius laughed again. "James wouldn't have said anything. He wouldn't have wanted to shame you, neither would I… But Peter..." The smile was gone now. 

Remus fought to keep the light mood. Sirius had been laughing and joking with him. He wanted that Sirius back. "Yes, but I didn't know that then, did I? Anyway, I kept myself from doing it, and then... we got so busy being educated." He shrugged expansively, holding his arms out from his body, inviting Sirius to take a good look. "And thus I became the adjusted, desirable individual you see before you." 

Sirius's eyes closed halfway with sudden desire. "Mmm..." He nearly purred before he caught himself and coughed to cover, embarrassed. "Yes." 

Remus smiled smugly to himself, before changing the subject and saving his friend. Yes, he could still turn Sirius on. That was good to know. "Ready for a walk?" 

Taking the obvious out Remus provided, Sirius said, "Yes... A walk sounds good. Will you be gardening this afternoon?" Remus could hear the carefully suppressed hope in his neutral sounding voice. He smiled. So Sirius wanted to do a little gardening and maybe play afterwards… 

"Mm.. well, I think it's about due for de-gnoming, don't you?" Remus said, noncommittally. 

"Ah... Yes, they have rather taken over, haven't they?" 

"Indeed..." Remus glanced at Sirius as if sizing him up. "I rather think that watchdog of mine has been doing more watching than working." Sirius caught his breath as Remus winked at him. Remus actually *winked* at him? 

Off balance, Sirius replied. "I suppose he has, at that." Shyly, he continued. "Perhaps you'll give him another chance, eh?" 

"Well...." Remus tried to keep his voice stern, but finally relented. "I suppose. I mean, if my parents didn't chuck me out for pissing on a Queen Anne chest of drawers, I can keep Padfoot around a little while longer, can't I?" He was rewarded when Sirius chuckled a little. 

"Everyone deserves another chance." Sirius's smile faded and his eyes became haunted again. "I'm glad." 

Noting the flash of the Sirius he'd known and loved so many years ago was gone, Remus stifled a sigh. Gently, he reached out. "I said it before, Sirius. This is your home, as long as you want it to be." 

"I'm glad. I don't know what I would have..." Sirius's voice was hoarse. Quickly, he cleared his throat and changed the subject. "Where are we going today?" 

Remus was frustrated with the quicksilver mood changes of his former lover, but at the same time Albus Dumbledore's words came back to him: "I can't even begin to understand what he's been through. No one can, there hasn't ever been anyone who has survived what he has. No one knows what twelve years in constant close proximity to Dementors will do to a wizard…" Time. Sirius needed time to heal. Time to be where he was protected and safe. With luck, Owl Nook would be his sanctuary, and Remus would do nearly anything to make sure Sirius had all the time he needed here. Allowing the change of subject, Remus tabled any other more serious concerns. "Well, if you want meat for supper, we should probably go down to the Crossing.…" 

Yes, that was the beginning of where they were now. Owl Nook did become a sanctuary for Sirius, yet it was empty and lonely without his packmate. Moony was in Canada. 

Canada. Sirius broke from his reverie, remembering Dumbledore's latest mission. He was to go to Canada himself, which would enable him to get in that visit he'd been longing for. A smile forming on his lips, he stood up and invited Hedwig inside while he added a post script to his letter for Remus. 

* * *

21 October, 1995 

Dear S, 

I hope this reaches you before you get here-I see by your hastily added scribble that you're probably on your way here already. I'm sending Hedwig as she'll be able to find you en route. I hope that whatever state you arrive in, you are not too hungry, nor wet, nor cold, and especially not wounded, but you know I'd gladly take you in regardless. 

It wasn't too bad, love. I don't want you to worry on that account. As I said, I put a rug and some other things down there, lit a fire before the moon rose, and was quite comfortable, all things considered. One thing seemed odd, though, but I can't quite place the problem. Claire brought my potion over by floo late that afternoon, but she seemed reluctant to go after I drank it down. By the way, hers tastes every bit as vile as when Snape prepared it, so you lose that bet. He didn't make it disgusting on purpose. Anyway, it seemed strange that she didn't wish to leave me to it by myself. It's not that I didn't enjoy the company, but… well, best not to take chances. She said something like that herself: that she hoped she had executed it correctly. I thought perhaps she was worried it wouldn't work properly. But if that were the case, shouldn't she have been better off to see me safely shut in the cellar, rather than risk being there when I transformed? I said as much to her, and it seemed to do the trick. She was off again to her own quarters, though she did make sure the nurse, Madam Coultice, checked in on me in the morning. 

In any case, as transformations go, it really could have been much worse. I can't tell you how happy I am that you expect to be here for the next one. 

The mountains. I got a chance to go there with Professor Gorman just the other day. Yes, one can Apparate there, but it is a bit of a stretch, and I'm not sure whether I'll be up to it that close to the full moon. But the school has several cars and even an old carpet or two (they're legal here). Do you still remember how to fly them? I'm sure I can borrow one or the other to get us there. We can run together like old times. 

There's only one other thing, and I hate to have to bring it up. Aside from the obvious problem, that is. Padfoot, I'm not sure how to ask you this…. Here it is: it's bad enough being a werewolf in a teaching community. Yes, the staff all know and they seem to harbour no ill will, but that's beside the point. Padfoot-I'm not ready to out myself on two counts. I know we've discussed this before, and I hate feeling this way-but there it is. I want you here so badly I can taste it, and rest assured once we are shut up together I will make that abundantly clear to you, how much I've missed you and how much I want to be with you, but my stance about our public faces remains unchanged. Can you forgive me for being such a coward? 

Everything else can wait until you arrive, I suppose. I can't wait to see you, packmate. 

Your excited, anxious, waiting, 

Remus 

* * *

**TBC...**


	4. I Cannot Hold You Long Enough

**Between the Lines(4/?)**

**Author:** Beasties-Boys  
**Author email:** Beasties-Boys@fictionalley.org  
**Category:** General, Drama, Angst, Romance  
**House:** Schnoogle  
**Chapter:**4/?  
**Keywords: **Sirius, Remus, letters, Year 5, slash  
**Spoilers:** All the books (so far)   
**Rating:** R  
**Pairing:** Sirius Black/Remus Lupin; Percy/Oliver implied; Harry/Ron implied.   
**Summary:** In a story that parallels the timing of "In this World of Strangers" and "Take the Chance," Remus accepts a one-year job in Canada while Sirius is left to play courier for Dumbledore. Will their separation after so little time together strengthen them or drive them further apart?   
  
**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. While the authors firmly believe the pairing is plausible, desirable, and just right, we also acknowledge the unlikelihood of anything like it ever happening in the books. So enjoy it here, at any rate.  
  
**Author's Notes:** See? Told you it wouldn't be as long a wait for this chapter! The amusement park in Blackpool is real, and here's a link to a database where you can see what coasters existed there in 1980: http://www.rcdb.com/locationdetail267.htm . Additional disclaimer: The name Caractacus Potts was lifted from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, so if he seems familiar, that's why. Have a giggle on us. 

* * *

**Chapter Four - I Cannot Hold You Long Enough**

**On Your Shore**  
Enya  
_  
Strange how my heart beats  
To find myself upon your shore  
Strange how I still feel  
My loss of comfort gone before.  
  
Cool waves wash over  
And drift away with the dreams of youth  
So time is stolen  
I cannot hold you long enough  
  
And so  
This is where I should be now  
Days and nights falling by  
  
Days and nights falling by me  
I know of a dream I should be holding  
Days and nights falling by  
Days and nights falling by me.  
  
Soft blue horizons  
Reach far into my childhood days  
As you are rising  
To bring me my forgotten ways  
  
Strange how I falter   
To find I'm standing in deep water  
Strange how my heart beats  
To find I'm standing on your shore.  
_

* * *

Sirius ran a nervous hand through his cropped hair as he walked the remaining few yards to the Academy's main classroom building. The directions Albus had given him were flawless, except that now that he was here, he had no idea where to find Remus. 

It was only about three in the afternoon, and in addition, he was a day early. Unable to wait until he had travelled there as Padfoot, Sirius had cheated and Apparated short distances several times on the journey. He glanced up at the large building, a four-storied edifice with three wings jutting out from a central tower, and swallowed. Remus was in there somewhere. 

He stopped a passing student, deciding that it would be more efficient to ask. "Excuse me, I'm looking for Professor Remus Lupin. Can you tell me where to find him?" When the student did not respond right away, Sirius worried that perhaps he was already recognised. He flashed a charming smile and explained, "I'm his cousin Sam...." 

"Uh... Yeah. Sure. He's in office hours. This way...." The student, a rather gangly fellow with blond hair, recovered himself and led Sirius up into the arch of the central tower. He opened a heavy oak door and gestured for "Sam" to go inside. Remus had accurately described the halls: they were long, white, and unadorned by anything resembling ambience. To one side stretched a line of windows; doors pocked the other side of the corridor. 

They walked along, Sirius glancing up and around and finally back on the swinging flannel shirt tails of the student, who had tied the shirt's arms around his waist, until they reached a recessed door which was marked "DADA." Sirius's fingers itched to start mapping the place for Moony. 

The student halted and turned to face his charge. "Here," he said, and without further ceremony, he ducked back down the corridor, making his escape as soon as possible. 

"Thanks so much!" Sirius called to the retreating form. Then, focusing on the door, and what he anticipated finding behind it, he took a deep breath, let it out, and knocked. 

Remus's clear voice sounded muffled through the thick door, but none the less pleasant or welcoming. "Come in!" 

Feeling inexplicably playful, Sirius threw open the door with a triumphant grin. "Hullo, 'Cousin!' I've come to see where you ended up this time!" Crossing to Remus's impressive desk quickly, he bowed slightly and whispered urgently, "'Sam Lupin,' at your service." 

Remus blinked in confusion and surprise, but recovered quickly. "S-sam, you're early!" He said brightly, rising from his chair to bestow "Sam" with a brotherly hug. Their embrace lasted a bit too long to be described as platonic, but since it had been several months, and there was no one else around to notice, Remus felt it a risk worth taking. 

As they broke apart, a little reluctantly, Sirius shrugged broadly. "I got here faster than I thought I would. You're not disappointed, are you?" He added with a wide grin and an accompanying wink. 

Remus smiled back and went to the door. "No, not at all, just surprised." He shut the door and turned back, and when he did, his whole demeanour changed. Sirius had just enough time to see precisely how much Remus didn't mind, before the other came toward him in a rush, closing his arms around him and devouring his lips. "Mm..." Remus groaned as he kissed him again. "A whole extra evening...." He lapped at Sirius's teeth with his tongue. 

"Mmmm... I am glad, love." Sirius brushed a finger over Remus's forehead, pulling back from their kisses to take a good look at his lover. "Gods, you're real.…" 

Remus reassured him with an affectionate squeeze. "Silly puppy." He bestowed a final peck dead centre on Sirius's nose, but then sighed even as he rested his head on the wizard's shoulder. "I have to finish this up…. I've got one more-" 

But he was interrupted by a knock. Sirius grimaced. "Okay, okay I know... You always were the responsible Marauder!" 

From outside the office, a girl's voice called tentatively. "Professor Lupin?" 

Even more reluctantly, Sirius slowly loosened his grip around Remus's waist. Remus smoothed his robes self-consciously and opened the door to reveal a pleasant-looking young woman of about sixteen. "Hullo, Lucy," he said amiably. "Come in, please. Excuse me one moment, will you?" He continued, conveying her to the chair opposite his desk and beckoning Sirius into the hall with him. He closed the door on Lucy and favoured Sirius with a rueful smile. "Sorry," he said briefly. 

Sirius nodded, aware that he had made the situation awkward by arriving ahead of schedule, but a little envious of Lucy for usurping his privileges. "S'all right. I'll just see what trouble I can get into, shan't I?" He asked with a wicked grin. 

Remus narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips mockingly. "I'm not sure I should let you out of my sight, but, yes. Give me an hour?" 

"One hour, 'Cuz,'" Sirius held up a finger to make it a firm commitment, stressing the familial relationship mischievously. 

Remus smiled, simply thrilled to have Sirius so close again. "Just don't get me fired, okay?" He asked with good humour. 

"Who, me?" Sirius asked, looking too innocent for any good to come of it. 

"Grr… out, 'Sam.'" Remus growled mockingly, pushing Sirius down the corridor an inch. With a mischievous grin, Sirius backed away and then turned to commence exploring. 

He was back exactly an hour later, and Remus suggested they walk across to his little house for the short while they had before dinner. They walked together in companionable silence, both thirsting for the moment when they would be safely alone again. Remus led Sirius up the single step onto the front porch, drew out his key, and opened the door. He took a step or two inside, feeling Sirius follow. In that instant, he was ridiculously reminded of an old comic strip he'd seen in a Muggle paper, about a young boy who believed his stuffed tiger was real. In the strip, the boy would come home from day school, only to be bowled over by his exuberant tiger companion. 

His impression wasn't far off the mark, for he heard Sirius shut the door and turn the lock behind him, to be followed very closely by mock growling noises. Remus turned to face his lover, realising dimly that some of the growling and heavy breathing he heard came from his own throat. A second later, he pressed Sirius to the door, and they were licking and kissing and tasting each other freely for the first time in months. 

"Gods, Moony," Sirius gasped as Remus slammed him against the door and began nibbling his way down the wizard's neck. 

"Mm?" Remus asked, distracted by his lover's flesh under his nose and tongue. 

"Oh, don't stop! Keep doing that!" Sirius told him, letting his hands wander freely over Remus's back and buttocks. 

"You didn't…want to…join the staff for dinner," Remus asked between kisses, putting his hands beneath Sirius's robes to lift them out of the way. He nipped at the smooth skin of his lover's chest once the robe came off. "Did you?" He asked, barely able to think about anything else but Sirius. 

"Shouldn't I... Oh!... Meet your colleagues...? I... Yes, keep doing that!... I mean if I'm to play your... ohhhh.... cousin? Oh...." Sirius panted and gasped under his partner's capable assault. He moaned in appreciative pleasure as Remus stripped his own robe quickly and pulled Sirius into the furnished sitting room to the right of the door. 

"Yes." He guided Sirius to a stuffed chair and knelt in front of him, unzipping the man's jeans fly. "Probably." He leaned his face against Sirius's crotch, sniffing the visceral scent that could be no one but his Padfoot. "Later." He licked the skin of Sirius' abdomen, right where the dark, prickly hair became thick. 

"Later…" Sirius repeated, though Remus could not tell whether it was a question or an agreement. 

To answer, Remus nipped the fold of skin where thigh met crotch. "Later," he confirmed. 

Half an hour later, to be exact, Sirius was putting his robes back on after one of the best blow jobs of his life. He wanted to reciprocate, but Remus insisted that they would be late for dinner if they didn't get themselves cleaned up, and that there would be plenty of time to pleasure each other further after the meal. With their faces washed and only a slight flush to their cheeks, they arrived at the dining hall just as the students were taking their places. 

The hall was a huge, multifaceted room with round tables that stood in loose rows. Remus brought Sirius to the far end of the hall, where several tables filled with adults. As they crossed the noisy room, Sirius muttered to himself under his breath, "Sam. My name is Sam." 

They neared a table where only two teachers were seated: one male, the other female. Remus greeted them cordially and they returned the salutation. Ever polite, Remus introduced each one in turn to his companion. 

"Marius Gorman, my cousin Sam Lupin. Marius teaches Charms." They shook hands. "And this is Claire LeTrec. Potions." 

Claire smiled prettily and Sirius instinctively released his charm. He bowed slightly. "Miss Claire," he said formally. 

"Hello, Sam. Remus, you didn't tell us you were expecting a guest." If Remus hadn't described her as such a normally warm and affectionate person, her manner could have been taken for flirting. 

"Well, Sam was due in tomorrow, but I guess the journey was shorter than I remembered it when I told him how to get here." Remus explained, watching the interplay between Claire and Sirius with amusement. 

"Well, please, join us," Marius said amiably. They took seats, Sirius placing himself between Claire and Remus. He had not missed her pleasure when Remus approached. 

"Thank you," he said as he pulled his chair in. "I travel quite a bit so I wasn't sure what my schedule was going to be like," he embellished, beginning to enjoy his role. 

"Oh? What do you do?" Claire asked immediately. 

Sirius opened his mouth to answer, but then closed it again, thinking of an answer. He glanced at Remus for a second, but Remus simply cocked his head at him. It was a clear expression that told Sirius that he'd gotten himself into this, so he had to get himself out of it. 

He had just begun an answer when Remus decided to save him. Their comments overlapped. 

"Sam's a Quidditch recruiter," Remus said, and, 

"I dabble in a little of this and a little of that. Currently I'm a representative for an organisation that works with the wizarding sporting community," continued Sirius, only half hearing what Remus had said. To cover, he looked at Remus and smiled apologetically. "Well, Remus, I wouldn't say I recruit, exactly.…" 

But it was too late. Marius Gorman had already latched on to Remus's explanation. "We've got some great players, Mr. Lupin. Do you play?" The room began to quiet in anticipation of the meal. 

"Not for years," said Sirius, not disguising his disappointment at the fact. "Not since I was in school." 

Claire brought the subject back to a different aspect of his work. "It must be fun to get to travel so much... I don't think I've ever been out of Canada, really." 

Sirius chuckled flirtatiously, relieved that she had steered the conversation to safer ground. "Well, I do get to see a bit of the world, Claire." 

At that point, Marius looked up and grimaced. "Look sharp," he muttered to the other three. "Potts." 

Sirius raised his eyebrows at Remus. "Potts?" He asked, confused. But the answer immediately became clear as another teacher stalked up to the table, taking the seat to the other side of Marius. He was fair, not particularly handsome, but his grey eyes seemed to pick out every detail. He looked nothing like the sallow, dark-haired Severus Snape, but something in his demeanour immediately reminded Sirius of the surly Hogwarts Potions Master. 

Remus answered him anyway, confirming the suspicion. "Severus for Herbology," he muttered under his breath. 

"Herbology?" Sirius asked, incredulous, but Remus kicked him under the table as Potts pulled up his chair. 

"Marius, has Tyfus increased the staff again without telling us?" He asked by way of acknowledging Sirius. Sirius's hackles rose immediately, but out of respect for Remus, he said nothing. 

Marius chuckled a bit nervously. "No, no, nothing of the sort, Caractacus," he spread his napkin as the meal appeared on their table. "This is Remus's cousin, Sam, here to visit," he explained. 

"Nice to meet you," Sirius chirped, sounding much more generous than he felt. 

But his polite overture was met with only a dark scowl. "Hmph. Not a close relation, I take it?" Caractacus Potts asked gruffly. Something in his voice suggested the tone of a challenge, though whether he meant to attack their contrasting looks or Remus's lycanthropy, Sirius couldn't tell. Either way, he didn't like it. 

"Close enough," he said evenly, holding Potts' gaze with his eyes. "Second or third cousin, I believe, isn't it? Rem?" He continued, his tone forcibly bright. 

"I never can keep it straight," Remus conceded with a sidelong, warning glance at Sirius. It wasn't clear to anyone else, he hoped, but to Remus, Sirius looked like he might launch himself over the table at any moment. 

"Caractacus, Sam recruits for Quidditch," Claire jumped in, hoping to lighten the mood and inadvertently perpetuating Remus's version over Sirius's own. 

"And?" Potts snarled, as if confused as to the significance of Claire's attempt. Again, Sirius felt the challenge from nowhere emanate out of the Herbology professor. 

"Well, it's a living," he said with a light shrug. He dearly wanted to know why this teacher had taken such an instant dislike to him, but he suspected it was nothing personal, just this man's unpleasant way. 

Remus jumped in to avoid an all-out war between the two men. "Sam's on his way through to visit the Moose Jaw headquarters and dropped by to see me." 

Sirius picked up the cue. "It's not often Remus and I get the chance to catch up." 

Potts narrowed his eyes cruelly. "Won't get much of a chance this weekend, will you?" He asked tactlessly. 

Sirius responded immediately, determined not to let this distasteful man upset him. "Oh, I'm sure we'll work it in. Besides, I like to make sure my favourite cousin is well cared for on his 'off' time..." 

Claire flushed with embarrassment on Remus's behalf, Sirius was sure, and also jumped in to ease the tension. "Well, Remus won't be taking classes tomorrow, will you?" 

"No, I've got proctors to give the students their mid-term exams, so there should be plenty of time," Remus told her, cutting off any other remark from Caractacus Potts. "That reminds me: Marius, is everything set for the carpet tomorrow?" Though Ty Nordstrom was the deputy Headmaster, and thus responsible for authorising transport, the Charms professor was unofficially in charge of maintaining the transportation pool. 

Marius blinked, a bit surprised that Remus brought it up, but went on with the tactic, noting that it had shut Potts up, at least. "Yes, of course. Everything is in order." 

Claire gasped appreciatively. "Going to go sightseeing? Sounds lovely. Are you sure you'll be up to it?" 

Sirius leaned over for the salt, taking the opportunity to whisper to Remus. "Oh, I'll make sure of that." To the table at large, he announced, "I'll be real careful with him." 

Remus kicked Sirius again lightly to make him stop, afraid the man's antics would make him blush. "Yes, I'm sure it will be fine," he assured Claire. 

But she was not to be put off immediately. "When can I bring you your potion, Remus?" She asked, clearly worried that if they left the grounds, he would not have his minimum dosage. 

Remus answered, but looked at Sirius as he spoke. "I think I'll get it from you after dinner, tonight, and then, perhaps before we leave in the morning?" 

Claire nodded appreciatively. "Of course. Well, you know where to find me." She paused while she cut up her potato, then flashed an invitational look at 'Sam.' "Perhaps Sam would like to see the lab as well?" She asked invitingly. 

Sirius smiled his most gracious smile. "Certainly, Miss Claire," he said formally. "I should love to see where you work." 

They ate the rest of the meal in comparatively pleasant conversation, only Potts refusing to join in the spirit. More and more Sirius thought of one of his least favourite people in the world: Snape. It did nothing to make him want to draw out the meal. He had come here to see Remus, not be reminded of his old adversary. 

They rose after the meal, and with a minimum of policing the students, were soon free to accompany Claire to her lab. Remus had carefully avoided dessert, as the potion would react adversely to any sugar, and he wanted to get it over with as soon as possible so he and Sirius could be alone. 

They walked across the grounds and into the main classroom building. Sirius noticed that in the company of the two teachers, the building seemed to bend itself to make the journey direct and short. His wandering around earlier in the day had resulted only in his getting turned around about five times, but here was the lab, neat as a pin and as full of light as Snape's dungeon was dank and shadowy. 

Remus sat and sipped at his smoking potion while Sirius made pleasant small talk with Claire. 

"Are you away from home most of the time, Mr. Lupin?" She asked him while she made up the ingredients packets for her youngest students' mid-term exams. 

"Yes, Miss Claire. It gets more and more difficult to leave my cottage. But, well, we all make sacrifices for our work, don't we?" 

Claire glanced over at Remus before answering. "Yes, we do," she said in a conciliatory voice. "Your family must miss you, though," she said artlessly enough, but Sirius caught her meaning clearly. She was fishing, he realised with amusement. He decided to give her a bite. 

"Yes, they do," he told her, taking the time for his own sidelong look at Remus, who gave him a warning look before taking another sip. "But it's that much better when I get a chance to see them," Sirius continued. An inspiration struck him. "And my... son is away at school now," he continued, watching for her reaction. 

Remus looked up sharply at the statement, but then smiled secretively and went back to his foul potion. 

Claire on the other hand did not conceal her surprise. "Oh! Well...it's certainly kind of you to spend time with your cousin, as well. How old is your son?" 

"Sixteen. Smart enough. Has his mother's eyes. And Remus and I practically grew up together. More like really good friends," he said with a slight twitch to his mouth. 

"You hardly look old enough to have a sixteen year old, Mr. Lupin," Claire complimented him gracefully. "Your wife must be a very lucky woman." 

"Well, I think so, but then I am biased, now, aren't I?" He grinned at her in a very friendly manner. They both looked over at Remus then, owing to the coughing that came from his direction. Remus pointed to the potion and grimaced, but then went back to drinking it dutifully. "Actually, I'm the lucky one," Sirius said pointedly. "I know it. _She_ is the best thing in my life." 

Claire sighed. "Oh... that's so sweet. I can see that you and Remus are related. You're both such considerate men. That's rare." She smiled up at him. 

"We were raised right," Sirius agreed. 

Remus drained off the last of his potion quickly. "Well, that's done. Thanks very much, Claire. I don't wish to keep you any longer..." he trailed off. 

"Yes, and I've had a rather long day of travel," Sirius supplied. 

"Oh, it's quite all right, Remus," Claire said to him. "Especially when I have two such handsome men for company, I don't mind being in the lab late at all." She winked playfully, then grew more solemn. "But I know you want to catch up together. Please, don't mind me." 

They took their leave quickly, Sirius assuring her that they'd meet again, and Remus confirming a final dose in the morning. 

As they stepped into the air, Remus cuffed Sirius playfully. "Scamp," he admonished. 

"Oh, stop. You love it," Sirius said smugly. "So, how'd I do?" 

"I'd say you made a fine impression. Did you see her reaction when you mentioned Harry?" Remus shook his head sympathetically. "Poor girl. I think you broke her heart, all in the space of two hours." 

"I did notice that." Sirius grinned. "I also saw your reaction…." 

"What?" Remus asked defensively. "I wasn't prepared, that's all." 

Sirius scoffed. "Broke her heart, nothing. Moony, she's got a crush on you." 

They stood on the porch while Remus unlocked his little house. "A crush on…." He repeated incredulously. Then, shaking his head, he concluded, "You're joking." 

"Nope. Trust me, I can tell," Sirius insisted, watching Remus as he locked the door behind them and turned on the lights. 

"Of course she doesn't," Remus said self-deprecatingly. 

"Of course nothing! She really likes you," Sirius told his lover, who could be terribly dense about these things at times. They went through the hall to the stairs and up. 

"Claire's a very caring, open, unspoiled young woman. She's that way with nearly everyone. It's just her way. Like you're just insufferably charming," he finished, leading his beloved to the bedroom, and turning to face him, standing very close together. 

"Uh-huh," Sirius answered, still dubious, but letting it go in favour of a more important discussion. "C'mere," he demanded, pulling Remus's arms around him and closing in for a deep kiss. "I've been wanting this all day." 

They locked on each other, their tongues meeting and darting about each other's mouths. "Oh, yessss," hissed Remus, letting Sirius lead him to the bed. Sirius found his opportunity to return the favours he received that afternoon, and more. 

Moony got his morning dose of potion from Claire alone, leaving Sirius to enjoy his coffee and plan their day. Sirius explored the house on his own, discovering the little things Remus had done to make the place more his. A single photo of James, Lily, and a smiling baby Harry stood on the mantle in the sitting room. Remus had stocked the pantry with some of his favourites: crunchy peanut butter, a jar of olives, some caramels, a box of cereal. Sirius went to the kitchen, where he replenished his coffee and noted that the tea towel had come from Owl Nook. Though he wasn't hungry, he opened the tiny icebox anyway, and that's when he saw the list. 

Sirius had said in a previous letter that he flatly refused to acknowledge being called by pet names associated with food. He hated "food" names. It seemed so trite to him, so belittling. Even James had noticed him cringe whenever James called Lily "sugarplum," which James only used sarcastically. He knew that Remus respected that, reserving the right to only use a "food" name in the direst of Sirius's black moods. Yet here was incontrovertible proof that Remus took a perverse pleasure out of thinking up names that would set Sirius off, or else that he feared he would slip one day. His neat lettering proclaimed across the top of the stationery: "Remember not to call Sirius:" and then followed a lengthy list of wide variety. The usual suspects were there, of course, "honey" and "sugar" and "cupcake," along with a large number of sweets. But there were others that Sirius found frankly disturbing. Did people actually call each other "cabbage," even if it was in French? Still, he couldn't suppress a wide grin when he realised it meant Moony was thinking of him constantly. Shaking his head at his lover's very warped sense of humour, he helped himself to parchment and Spellotape. 

When Remus returned, Sirius was at the dining table. He had a rough sketch of the grounds laid out on several pieces of parchment, Spellotaped together. 

"For your map," he explained. He didn't mention the list. 

They talked for much of the day, about Harry, about life, about the school and Remus's students, conversations punctuated by constant touching, kissing, licking, tasting one another hungrily. At length they walked across the grounds to where Marius stored the carpets. Again, the school bent itself to Remus's will, so the journey was direct. 

"It's a charm," Remus explained, "so that teachers can always find what they're looking for. But it does make wandering about difficult. Little in the way of discovery," he commented, sounding disappointed. 

Remus signed out the carpet and they walked with it between them until they were far enough away from school grounds to unfurl it. Then Sirius climbed on, excitement and anticipation permeating his scent. "C'mon, Moony!" He bounced on his knees, the carpet responding to his exuberance by cushioning him. "Let's go!" He grabbed Remus by the arm and pulled him up onto the carpet while Remus laughed. 

It took Sirius mere seconds to remember how to control the carpet's flight. He leaned into the wind, still on his knees, eager for adventure. Remus remembered a time they went to a Muggle amusement park in Blackpool, and Sirius had to take him on every single roller coaster-ten of them-twice before he would let them leave. Remus loved the thrill rides as well, but he could never get quite so excited about them as Sirius. James had been his equal in that, and by the end of the day, he remembered, it was James and Sirius whom they had to coax out of the park. But that was Sirius. If it went fast, if it flew, flipped, bumped, fell, tumbled, corkscrewed, rolled, pitched, or in any way made one feel as if one's stomach could not possibly lurch any harder, he absolutely loved it. 

They reached the mountain ridge just as the sun dipped along the horizon at less than one quarter its width. It was bright orange, bathing the western side of the mountains with light, turning them to purple shadows on the eastern edge. Sirius landed the carpet and Remus slid off thankfully, for when the wolf ran high in his blood, he hated to be away from the ground. He sniffed the air appraisingly, casting a glance to the east, where the moon already hung several degrees above the skyline. 

"Change, Padfoot," Remus growled, feeling his own shift begin. The potion didn't ease the pain; only the disorientation, the loss of conscious thought, the dominance of the wolf's instincts over his man's conscience was suppressed by the Wolfsbane. He could feel his internal organs begin to metamorphose. His heart rate climbed; his limbs stretched and cracked and grew powerful. His breathing quickened. His spine doubled over as he stretched his hands toward the ground. With the part of his brain that remained human, he looked over at his mate, who had instinctively followed orders and become Padfoot, instantly, effortlessly, painlessly. Moony snarled. Padfoot felt no pain with his transformations; they came or went at will, not dictated by the tides. He snapped his lengthening jaw, a rage passing through him that he pushed deep into his bowels as he remembered that this was Padfoot, whom he loved, not a random human worthy only of becoming dinner. But even before he could suppress his impulse, his angry snapping changed to painful barking: his bones grew even while he exercised them. His hands became rounder, the thumbs receding up onto his forelegs, and claws sprang out from fingers transformed into paw pads. He felt his tailbone pop out and lengthen, extending his spine toward its cartilaginous tip. Hair grew from every pore of his skin, until his coat emerged, thick and shaggy, a brown and grey-streaked blanket over his flesh. His tendons stretched and twisted into place around his new flesh. He screamed in pain, and halfway through the scream turned to a howl, one which Padfoot answered gratefully. 

Moony shook himself from head to tail, stretching as one would after a long nap. Although the potion allowed him to restrain the violence of the werewolf, some lupine instincts still found their way to the surface, and he approached the large black dog before him in a challenging posture. Padfoot whined, dropping to his belly and ducking his head to acknowledge Moony's dominance. Moony padded forward until he could press his snout into the soft fur of Padfoot's neck. He rubbed his jaw against the curve of Padfoot's head, marking him with the friendly gesture. Padfoot in turn twisted under his alpha, bestowing a loving nip to Moony's shoulder. They wrestled playfully for a moment or two, their paws buffeting one another while they exchanged gentle swats and bites. Then Moony clamped his jaw on the thick flesh of Padfoot's neck and Padfoot fell still. Moony picked up a scent, and giving the wolf a little rein, he took off in that direction. Padfoot wriggled to his feet and loped after. 

They ran; they played; they found a spring and drank; they played more, hunting each other in a mock battle. They avoided a polar bear. They found a clearing where Moony howled freely, his cries of joy mingling with Padfoot's exaltations. They wrestled again, this time finding more intimate targets for their animal forms to caress. They mated under the stars. 

As the moon travelled in the sky and began to drop, they found their way back to the magic carpet. Once back, they stayed nearby, aware that the night was fading and Moony would soon return to his human form. Padfoot rested a paw on his alpha's belly as they lay, content to be together, waiting for dawn. 

When it came, Moony's reverse transformation was, as always, almost as painful. His limbs retracted here, elongated there, the fur coat receded rapidly back into his skin, leaving him with his usual layered and greying hair-perhaps a little more grey than before. His pulse slowed back to human normal, if a little hyperactive from the pain. His head ached; his muscles complained at the slightest movement. Padfoot nudged him nervously with his nose and paws, comforting in dog form until the transformation was completed. Then, silent as thinking, he changed back to Sirius and kissed Remus gently on the lips. 

"Home?" Remus whispered pitifully. 

"Soon," Sirius promised him. "Can you make it onto the carpet?" He helped Remus to stand and walk the few paces to the carpet, which he spelled to life as they approached. Positioning it just where Remus could lie down without difficulty, he eased his lover onto the buoyant surface. Sirius circled the carpet himself and climbed on slowly, careful not to jostle his passenger any more than necessary. Remus watched him through eyes half-closed with fatigue. 

"Sleep, love," Sirius said to him, soothing the pain with his voice. "I'll get us back safely. I promise you a smooth ride," he continued, stroking the other man's hair as he spoke. 

"Mm…" Remus whimpered under his partner's tender touch. "O…kay…" He barely articulated, already drifting into a much-needed rest. 

Sirius guided the carpet back with as few changes in altitude or speed as he could. He wanted to get home quickly, get Remus back into a real bed, fix him tea, watch over him as he slept. It was the same when they woke the first day after their first full moon together: Moony's straightforward need awoke in Sirius a capability he had begun to doubt in himself. But when Moony needed him, as when Harry needed him, he forced himself to function, and it helped. More than that. For so many weeks it was Remus who cared for him, down to cleaning him up after horrible nightmares, and did so without any fuss, as naturally as making breakfast. That Moony would allow him to play caretaker, after all his neediness and insecurity, was in some ways better therapy than a hundred days of playing fetch. The carpet sped toward the Academy, and Remus's cosy little house on its grounds. 

** 

25 October, 1995 

Moony  
Under the Petname list (Moony's Ice Box)  
Commonwealth Academy of Magic  
Manitoba, Canada 

My Moony, 

You're asleep in the bed beside me, and the morning sun is making the world bright beyond your curtained windows. Last night was the full moon, and I cannot… Damn. It seems I am at a loss for words, my heart is so full. Canada *is* beautiful. The mountains are all you said they'd be, and more. And I got to run with you, my heart. You, the wilderness, the full moon, and all the stars in the sky. I can think of nothing more magical. 

I am so very happy, my love. And this scares me a lot. It makes me nervous. I think you understand this feeling. What is the term? "Waiting for the other shoe to drop"? It seems even now, knowing that nothing threatens us *here* I am tensed for an attack. Will we *ever* come out from under this pall? Will we ever be easy in our bits of happiness? I fear the answer will always be 'no.' I am afraid something will happen to take this away from me. From *us*. 

I can no longer make reckless promises. I can no longer be easy and complacent in my life and what I expect from it. I've lost so much… I have no sacred spaces left to me but you, Moony, and even that I fear can be torn from me. There is such darkness, such fear. I do not know if I will ever know myself completely again. I do not know if I even wish to. 

But ENOUGH of such thoughts! I fear I have strayed from my path. This was meant to be a love letter, not this drabble. It seems I cannot even manage a simple love note. 

I know the full moon is over. I know I must go back to fight and fight and fight in this war I fear will never end. When you wake, my pack mate, we will learn each other again, in the light of day. You may choose to chronicle the new scars that adorn my body. Or, if last night proved too tiring, I will be content to lie here with you wrapped in my arms. 

When I finish this letter, I will put it somewhere inconspicuous, but somewhere you will find it after I've gone. Perhaps I will affix it under the list hanging on the ice box door. You know the one I mean; the list of pet names. "Remember not to call Sirius (add as necessary):" indeed! Hmmm… I may have to make an exception for "Honey" but I had to laugh at some of these, love. "Cupcake," "creampuff," "sugar," "peaches?" What is it about me that makes you think of dessert foods? Should I be flattered or disturbed? And I will add "pumpkin" and "sugarbutt" to the list now… "Saltlick?" That's rather… suggestive (it begs the question "pet name, or action request?"). I dare you to say that to my face and *not* laugh! Good thing you won't get this note until I am gone from you again, or you might actually do it! Ahh, you are starting to stir beside me… I shall have to close this now. I love you, my wolf. You are my heart. 

Padfoot 

* * *

**TBC...**


End file.
